Command Me
by LightPhyre
Summary: Bulma, one of the last Earthlings in the universe, is a chambermaid to the ruthless Prince Vegeta. After a horrible incident that almost takes the prince's life, Bulma wonders if maybe she should try and get to know the man she's served for years. Unfortunately, the prince is just as cruel as the rumors say, and Bulma soon finds herself in the middle of the planet's awful secrets..
1. Chapter 1

" **COMMAND ME"**

 **Chapter One:**

The kingdom of Saiyans… Also known as Planet Vegeta, ruled by the royal family. The King and his sons were always named after the planet itself, as was tradition. And the current King Vegeta was no different from the rest. He ruled with an iron fist, and his morals revolved around dominance and revenge. He was the planet's strongest warrior, and he never let his world or his people forget it.

The Prince Vegeta was just as cruel and ruthless as his father. Born to the king and a whore, or so the stories say, he was raised to be a king greater than his father; and when the Saiyans say "greater," they meant stronger and more hateful. It was the only way to rule on this warrior planet. It was the only way the others would ever follow you.

But although its leadership tactics made sense and kept the order, it was very cruel and demeaning to the weaker inhabitants of the planet. For example, the Yardrats, whose planet was destroyed decades ago, and its people forced to live as slaves and crop workers for the Saiyans… They were close to powerless to fend for themselves, and many of them died to the planet's intense gravity as soon as they arrived. The strongest survived, but they still lost about ninety percent of their population.

Another example were the red-faced warriors whose planet was destroyed a mere year and a half ago. Their planet's name was unknown, and they had no leader, but they were great fighters. Unfortunately, they were still no match for the Saiyan elites. The unknown species' best fighters paled in the sight of King Vegeta when they were forced to submit to him. Many of them were forced to join the Saiyans' Universal Patrol, and sent away on other missions, not unlike the one that destroyed their planet. Some say they're sent away on missions so that the king doesn't have to worry about an uprising, less too many of them remain on the planet and conspire to overthrow the Saiyans. It would never happen, but many lives would indeed be lost to the senseless fighting.

Another, smaller, weaker species resided on this awful planet. Their home world was destroyed nearly fifteen years ago, and the population was so weak, that the majority of them died on the journey to Planet Vegeta. And when the survivors arrived, the planet's gravity killed the majority of those survivors. They were known as the weakest species alive, according to the Saiyans, and they were known as the Earthlings, from Planet Earth. After the fighting, and the inevitable destruction of Earth, there had been close to two hundred and fifty thousand Earthlings left in the world. And after the round trip, and the affects of Planet Vegeta on the weak species, scholars estimated a little less than three hundred Earthlings were alive today. Some thought that was too high of an estimate.

When first confronted by the Saiyans, King Vegeta had deemed the people too weak to be of any use. They could barely stand from the intense gravity and the air simply made them sick. So sick that their bodies became frail and their bones began to crumble under their own weight. Many were killed then and there, but one awful thing saved the Earthlings from total and complete extinction…

The Earthling females were kept as pets, and they were repeatedly molested and raped, to the point where it became painstakingly clear that, unlike many species in the world, Earthlings could have Saiyan children. It was proved that male Earthlings could not impregnate a female Saiyan, and because of that, the males were all sentenced to death. There were very few who survived, and if anything, it was to allow the Earthlings to reproduce with their own kind. Awful matings took place, and Earthlings all over the planet were used and abused for almost fifteen years.

Although, some of the females were fortunate enough to gain favor with the king. He made some regulations and killed a few people, and all of a sudden, about three years ago, Earthlings were allowed in the castle, and many of the remaining females were promised protection. No one ever figured out why the king made such a strange decision, and some say no one ever will. But the fortunate girls and even boys, who were allowed into the castle, found themselves living lives that were much better than what they had in mind.

One such girl was Bulma Briefs. She had been taken in by a kind, older Saiyan, who never raped her or was obsessively cruel to her. She'd heard stories from a few of the other girls in the castle that made her pathetic life seem like a dream. She had been hit many times, and bruised, but never scarred. And never molested. She realized that she had been one of the fortunate ones. And three years ago, she had been taken away from the old Saiyan and given the royal duty of the prince's chambermaid. It was a grueling job, satisfying the next-in-line for the throne, but she had dedicated the past few years of her life to being perfect at what she did, so that she would never have to live outside the castle walls again.

Another fortunate Earthling girl was Chichi, who had been given the job of royal cook. Of course, she didn't start off as a cook, simply as a server. But she learned quickly, and her dishes were soon known as some of the best in the castle. Considering that she'd come from being a chambermaid in one of the military houses, it was a huge step up for her. Bulma never asked about Chichi's past, partly because she didn't think it was her business, but mostly because she knew what happened to Earthling girls in a Saiyan military house… Chichi was very strong. She was beautiful, and she was strong.

Launch and Maron had come from being treated as slaves, and they often told people how horrible their lives used to be. The king had given them laundry duty. Despite what they originally thought about their new lives, it turned out that there was an endless supply of laundry to be washes, dried and folded. And if there wasn't, the girls knew now that it was best to start washing some clean clothes and towels before someone noticed that their work was finished. If any of the Earthling females seemed to be unnecessary, there was a high chance that they would be thrown out of the castle. And without an assignment, there was no telling what would happen to them out there.

One Earthling male, Yamcha, had been brought to the royal castle. He was the only one that any of the girls had ever seen since the king had them all slaughtered. Bulma thought he was quite handsome, and she was glad she did. The only reason they kept him around was to give Earthling females more Earthling children, and hopefully daughters. It wasn't a secret that Yamcha would be in charge of making sure all of them were pregnant when the time came… Bulma was glad he wasn't a bad guy. He was actually very kind. A little pompous, maybe, but he would never hurt anyone. She thought he was as good a choice as she was going to get… even though it wasn't a choice at all.

And for the past three years… Bulma Briefs and her few Earthling friends managed to survive. Their jobs were toiling, but better than every other option on the planet. And they knew that. And they were grateful for it. And at this point, they were all just grateful to be alive and well…

…..

Bulma leaned down to wipe a small splotch of blood off the table's corner. The last man to come into the prince's chamber and start making demands lasted even less time than the last. The prince's temper was getting shorter and shorter lately. Bulma found herself cleaning up more blood than ever, and most of it was in this very room, where royalty slept and dreamed. From the outside, that would seem dangerous for the prince, but Bulma knew that it meant quite the opposite. It was the people who would fear the prince's wrath when blood was spilled.

She took a spray of native flowers and puffed a bit over the floor to get rid of any unpleasant odors. It was difficult to rid the room of them at a time like this, though…

The layout of the prince's chambers was quite simple. It was three rooms, all very large. The first was the main room, where large double doors decorated the entrance at it's center. Upon entry, a large, rectangular, dark oak table sat on top of a hand-stitched, short-hair carpet or red, brown and gold. The table's legs were perfectly curved and carved with images of waterfalls, cascading from the tabletop onto the soft carpet. The top was trimmed with teardrop sapphires, and a clear, thick lacquer covered the top like an inch of glass. There had been several chips over the past few years, but Bulma made sure that they were unnoticeable to the prince and his guests. Other furniture lined the walls in just as flamboyant a manner, including three dressers, a cabinet filled with the prince's plates and bowls and eating ware, a couple couches, a velvet love seat, and a dark wood hutch.

Attached to the largest room were two separate rooms, smaller, but not by much. On the far right was the prince's garderobe, complete with a diamond encrusted bathtub and three sinks. The chamber pot was jeweled with gold and rubies, with a literal hole in the floor beneath it. Saiyans didn't have a planet with very expansive technical designs, although the architecture was phenomenal. The counters were a shiny golden and bronze marble, and mirrors lined the walls. Bulma always found it eerie in there by herself, cleaning the floors and such. She hated mirrors.

Immediately to the right of the main entrance was a set of sliding double doors, without a lock. They led to his bedchamber. There was only one bed, larger than a king's size on Earth, from what she remembered about her home planet. He always had white sheets and a red bedspread and blanket. His pillows were red and white as well. He usually slept on the red ones and pushed the white ones to his feet… After living to serve him for these few years, Bulma knew just what the prince liked, and how best to serve him.

In fact, Bulma Briefs took great pride in her ability to do her job, and during her years of service, she became very dedicated to being the best at what she did, lest anyone try and replace her, of course. She took it upon herself to ask around, figuring out who was good at what around the castle, and she asked these people, when available, to teach her how to preform certain tasks. Chichi had been her first, teaching her how to serve a meal, set a table, put away silverware, and things like that. She even stooped so low as to ask Maron for advice on how to fold clothes and keep them from stinking up a room and remaining stain-free without a good wash. She was very good at what she did, to say the least, but she never said it. She knew how to keep her tongue from getting cut out of her mouth, and bragging wasn't a good way to do that. Besides, as long as the prince stayed happy, and didn't make a point to talk to her about anything, she was fine. The quicker and more efficient she did her job, the less likely it was that she would have to interact with the cruel prince…

A woman's moans echoed through the walls, every now and again getting more urgent, and sometimes becoming quiet altogether. Bulma was eager to finish up her daily routine and leave today, seeing as the prince had company in his bedchambers. Thankfully, this time he decided to shut the double doors. More often than not, he would leave them wide open, and Bulma had caught many glimpses of the prince and his mistresses ruining the bed she just made. Sometimes she felt like he left the doors open on purpose, but she had no say in the matter. She was only happy that they remained closed now. Hearing them was torture enough.

She had only the garderobe left to clean. Then she would do one last check up and she could head off to her own chambers. It wouldn't take her very long. The prince wasn't the messy type, which she was grateful for, but she hated cleaning the privy. It was just the idea of it, that he'd never do it himself and he'd never have to. She knew that chambermaid was a nice term for slave here in the castle, and she often had to remind herself of her good fortune, especially when she was on her knees, literally cleaning up after the prince took a shit. He was a glorified monster, and she was his pet.

Fortunately, she was quick, and the job was done in less than a half hour. With any luck, he would still be fucking around in his bed, and she would be free to leave for the night.

But, as it goes, Bulma had awful luck…

"And who might this be?" a high-pitched whine asked from the prince's private room.

Bulma looked up after wiping her wet hands on a towel to find one of the red-faced, unknown warrior species. Her white hair was a mess, tangled in all the wrong places. For one thing, Bulma was glad that the prince didn't require her to brush his hair. That was reserved for female warriors and their maids. And she'd never learned how to brush anyone's hair before.

"And why isn't the little brat answering me?" the red-faced woman asked. Her voice was snotty and she raised her nose in the air when she spoke. Bulma noticed a creamy splotch of liquid at the corner of her mouth and held back an urge to vomit.

"My name is Bulma, Milady," she quickly replied, doing the usual formalities and giving a quick curtsy, making sure to keep her eyes on the ground. She wasn't always good at the whole rule-obeying thing, but sometimes she got it right. After her first few improper behaviors in the castle, she'd been punished and given lessons on etiquette for over a month. She tried her best to do as the rules commanded her to, but sometimes her temper got the better of her.

"And what planet are you from? And why is that thing around your neck?"

Bulma involuntarily reached up and touched the collar hanging at her throat. Sometimes she forgot that it was even there.

"This allows me to withstand this planet's gravity, Milady."

"And your planet?"

"I come from Earth, Milady."

"Oh, shut up with that!"

Prince Vegeta's voice boomed like thunder as he swaggered out of his private room, wearing only a small towel around his waste.

"She's not a lady. She's a whore. And she needs to leave before I kill her." He turned his dark, dangerous eyes onto the red-face and she jumped, nodding once before hurrying out the door. The prince then turned his back to Bulma, who remained looking at the ground. "Servant woman, prepare me a shower. Make the water hot."

Bulma bowed, although she doubted he saw her before he closed the double doors behind him. So much for being done for the day… She quickly made her way back to the garderobe and ran the water hot. When she put her hand under it, and her skin turned bright red, she nodded once to herself and entered the main room. She went for the dresser with the towels and grabbed two large black ones and one medium sized. She placed the medium one on the floor beside the showerhead's water flow and swung the two larger ones over the handles on the wall beside the tub.

The shower and the tub were two separate things, made specifically for either standing or sitting. She never made the mistake of mixing up the two, and she hoped she never would.

Bulma turned to find the prince a change of clothes in one of the dressers and came face-to-face with his naked body. She stared at him, wide-eyed, for only a moment before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I apologize, your Highness. Your shower is ready. I'll just go get you some clothes." She kept her breathing even, but even with her eyes shut, she knew he was still standing in front of her. Her heart was racing. Of course, having to serve him for this long, she'd seen the prince's naked body many times before, but each time she closed her eyes. He was far from unattractive, but she didn't know what he'd do to her if she ever looked for too long. She didn't want to be another one of his whores, and giving him the wrong idea wasn't on her to-do list. Ever.

"I don't need them. I'm going to bed after this. Have my sheets changed and washed before I'm finished."

"Yes, your Highness."

Bulma lowered her head and waited for his ominous presence to move away from her, but he wasn't moving, and all of a sudden Bulma wondered if she was doing something wrong. She immediately opened her eyes and stepped away from him.

"I'm sorry, my Lord." She looked at the ground and bowed.

Without another word, he stepped past her and Bulma eagerly exited the room.

…..

"Well, you're up late. What's the occasion?"

Bulma rolled her eyes at Launch in the middle of the castle's main laundry room. She was hanging up a large pile of wet, white shirts, letting them drip dry for the night. Her sleeves were rolled up, but she was covered in soapy water from head to toe anyway.

"I'm guessing from the pile of dirty sheets that the prince wasn't very happy with whoever was in his bed tonight," Maron piped in from across the room, analyzing Bulma's small pile of laundry.

"Yea, he doesn't usually go to bed this early," Launch giggled. "You're usually changing his sheets in the morning, not right before the prince goes to bed."

"Maybe you should keep him warm tonight, Bulma," Maron laughed.

"That's not even funny." Bulma glowered. That was the last thing she wanted.

"Oh, come on. Lighted up. I was kidding."

"No, she wasn't," Launch tattled. "She's always going on and on about how she would sleep her way to the top if she was in you shoes, Bulma."

"Well, it would only take one or two men if you start from the prince…"

"Still not funny," Bulma said harshly, narrowing her eyes at the blue-haired girl. Many people saw them as sisters, considering how alike they looked. It was mostly the bright blue hair that people identified with them. The king's guards often said how her and Maron were the only Earthlings with blue hair that they'd ever seen, even before they all died. Maybe that was why they were invited here. It was well known that the most beautiful Earthling females were gathered for royal work, but Bulma didn't think she was that pretty. It was probably just her hair. Because it was different… that's why she'd been chosen.

"Okay, okay, break it up," Launch said, rolling her eyes. "Maron's a slutty laundry girl and we all know it, okay? Bulma? You good?"

"It's fine. Sorry I got worked up about it."

"Just make sure you put these on his bed before he's out of the shower, okay, hun?" Launch handed her a new pile of white sheets and a red blanket. "Now go. You don't want to make him unhappy right before bed."

Bulma nodded and hurried back to the prince's room. She pulled the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, slipping inside as quietly as a mouse. She'd mastered the art of creeping about after only the first time she accidentally woke up the prince. It was the first and last time it ever happened…

"A little slow tonight, aren't you?"

Bulma jumped, almost dropping her tall pile of linens when the prince strolled out into the main chamber, a black towel thankfully wrapped around his waist. His arms were crossed, but she was relieved to find a light smirk on his face. "The laundry wenches chatting up the place, as usual?"

"Yes, my Lord," Bulma replied with a slight laugh. She looked at him for a moment, wondering why it was s strange to see him without an angry scowl or a tight glare. He didn't look so bad when he wasn't mad at someone…

"Well, hurry up with that. I don't have all night, woman."

Prince Vegeta frowned and Bulma jumped to attention again.

"I apologize, my Lord. Right away, sir."

She slid open the double doors and got to work setting down the bed spread. She flattened out the white sheets with elegance and speed. She tugged up the pillowcases and spread out the red comforter. She took a step back from her work and froze. Where were the red pillowcases? They were all white… Did Launch forget to give her the red ones? It was the most important part… Why didn't she check it before she left the linen rooms?

Bulma gulped and slowly looked at the prince, keeping her head down as her heartbeat sped up a few paces. He looked at the bed for too long, and then looked back at her.

"What?" he snarled.

"I'm so sorry, your Highness. I'll go get the red pillowcases right away. It will only take a few minutes, I promise. Please forgive me."

She quickly took a few long strides towards the exit, but he stood between the double doors, blocking her way with one muscular arm across the door frame. Bulma began to shake.

"Your Highness, please forgive me."

The silence lasted too long and Bulma knew better than do anything other than wait. And finally, the prince spoke.

"Three years…" he said. She couldn't read his tone. "Three years and you make one mistake, and here you are trembling like a lost kitten. I can feel how afraid you are, woman…" There was another long period of silence and she knew that if it went on much longer she would cry. "Don't worry about it. Go get some rest. I'll want a warm bath at first light."

And then he dropped his arm and dropped his towel, and stepped so that he was standing directly behind her.

"Yes, my Lord," Bulma replied quickly, and headed for the exit, listening to the prince shut the double doors and climb into his imperfect bed.

…..

"I can't believe I missed it. Bulma, I'm so sorry," Launch cried, hugging the blue-haired chambermaid. "You know we keep them in piles pre-made, so it must have been a mistake we made a while ago. I can't believe that happened."

"I can't believe he just let you walk out like that," Maron added. "I would've bet money that he'd have you punished."

"If anything, he should've had _you_ punished!" Bulma snapped back. "You're probably the one who screwed up the piles to begin with! If I have to check your work every time I'm in here then _I_ should be king!"

"Don't let anyone else hear you saying that..." Maron spat back.

"Will you two stop it already. Every time Bulma comes in here you're at her throat, Maron. Give it a rest. We all have our jobs, and they aren't going to change anytime soon."

"Yea, Maron, I'm sorry I have the job you want," Bulma snorted.

"At least if I had it, I'd be doing it the right way."

"Says the girl who can't even put sheets away properly."

The door slammed open and all three girls jumped. A guard in a full suit of armor stood in the threshold with a tight frown. Saiyan guards never smiled, but this one looked especially angry.

"Your Highness, Prince Vegeta has instructed me to have all laundry and linen personnel come with me for a few hours. We're going to have a special training exercise."

"A few hours?!" Launch immediately shouted. "Do you know how far behind we'll get in a few hours of training? And training for what, may I ask?"

"It is not your place to question the orders of the prince."

"Well, I'm questioning you. Now, answer me!"

The guard narrowed his eyes. "No, wench, I have no idea how far behind you will fall in your work, but it is neither my concern nor my problem. Now, please come with me or I will inform the king that you have disobeyed a direct order from the prince."

"Why do we need to be trained?!"

"Launch..." Bulma warned. The guard was already in a foul mood, and Launch's temper was going to get her into trouble. "I'll do some of the laundry while you're gone. Just try and hurry with whatever you have to do, all right?"

"How are you going to do laundry? You have to serve the prince."

"I'll figure it out. Just go, before you get in trouble."

Maron kept her head down as she followed the guard out the door, along with a few others that Bulma always saw in the laundry rooms, but didn't know by name. Launch turned at the door.

"Be careful. If anything, let us fall behind. Apparently, we're all in trouble with the prince because of what happened. I'd rather him be mad at me than you. I can avoid him, but you have to actually spend time in his room. Okay?"

Bulma just nodded at her friend. She already knew that this interruption was going to get her into trouble. First light passed about half an hour ago. She grabbed some spare towels and two red pillowcases and headed off to work.

…..

Bulma expected an introduction as soon as she unlocked the door to the prince's chambers, but oddly enough, there was only silence. The double doors were closed, so she assumed he was still asleep. That wasn't like him at all…

She walked over to the garderobe and ran warm water until it filled the tub to the brim. She knew that the prince liked the water to overflow when he sat down. She added some oils to fragrance the water and placed the towels and clothes for the day on the sink. She put some towels down on the floor so it wouldn't be slippery when it got wet and stood, proud of her work. She checked the soap, making sure everything was full and ready, and walked back out into the chambers. The double doors were still closed… He had to have heard her running the water.

She took a deep breath and walked over, gently sliding one door to the side and slipping inside his private room. It was dark, but the crack from the door let in enough light for her to see the slow rise and fall of his breathing under the sheets. The blanket was already kicked to the floor and he was sleeping on white pillows… It was something she'd never seen before so she couldn't help by stare for a moment.

"Your Highness," she whispered, making sure to stand far away from the edge of the bed. "Prince Vegeta, please forgive the intrusion, but your bath is ready."

He didn't budge.

Bulma pursed her lips, but knew better than to wake him from such a deep sleep. She saw this as a bit of a blessing. If the prince was sleeping, then she had time to go tidy up some of the laundry. She quickly went back tot he bath and ran piping hot water into the tub so that it would stay warm by the time the prince woke up, and then she went off to help her friends.

…..

She was only gone for about an hour, and just as she thought, the prince had taken his bath and gone off to do some royal things—meetings and training, from what she'd heard—and unexpectedly, he'd left the place a total mess for her to clean up.

Bulma frowned at the state of the prince's chambers. First she checked the bedchambers, and not only were the sheets off the bed, but they were torn as well, which meant that she would have to change them again. Feathers from a huge tear in one of the newer pillows littered the floor. In the main chambers, he must have trudged water from the bath all over. The carpet was soaked and the wooden chairs were damp and it smelled like a wet animal in the room. The garderobe was soaked as well. Water was everywhere, and it nearly flooded the entire room, leaving watermarks at the bottom of the tub and under the sinks.

Bulma frowned. It almost felt deliberate. The prince never made a mess like this. And like the pillow and the water-soaked carpet, some of it looked like it took a bit of effort to accomplish. Was this her punishment for the pillowcases? But he didn't seem like he minded as much as she thought he would… She guessed that she was very wrong, and it had to be the last time she made a mistake like that. She would have to double check everything, all the time. At this rate, not only would the laundry not get done, but she would be up all night trying to figure this out…

She didn't have time to complain or think. Bulma Briefs rolled up her sleeves and started on the flooded garderobe.

…..

"Well… I mean… I don't even know what to say, Bulma..." Chichi frowned. "You just have to bite your tongue and pretend it never happened."

"But I know him. I know that he needs to feel like he got to me. If I pretend it never happened, he'll just do it over and over again until he gets a reaction out of me."

"But that's why you're perfect, Bulma," Chichi smiled. "That's why no one else in this castle can do your job the way that you do it. Because you deal with the prince. And you know how. If you put your mind to it, he'll never get a reaction out of you, and he'll just have to live with that. There's no one else in the world I can say that about."

Bulma smiled. Chichi was a dream in this awful place.

"You're right. I should stop worrying. After all I only spent hours replacing furniture and carrying carpeting down the halls over and over again. And moping up a flood and replacing bedding and—"

"And I'm sure you did a great job, but the prince needs his meal," she interrupted, with the biggest reassuring smile Bulma had ever seen.

"Right… Sorry. What's on the menu tonight?"

"Some soba noodles in a broth to start. The main course is a miso glazed black cod with sautéed broccoli and chirashi sushi, and a yuzu crème brulee for dessert. I had the chefs set up the cart for you already. You came in pretty late and I figured you'd be in a rush, as always."

"Thanks so much, Chichi. I'll come visit you when I have a free moment."

"So… don't hold my breath?"

Bulma smiled sadly. It was true, and it was sad that she couldn't spend more time with her friend. Even when she was free, they both knew that Chichi was always busy, too. She had to cook meals for practically everyone in the royal castle, and Bulma often wondered how she even got any sleep.

"I'll see you later, Chi."

"Byeee."

She took the cart of hot food and hurried through the corridors of the faintly lit castle. She dearly hoped that the prince hadn't returned to his room yet. She wanted everything to look perfect by the time he got back, including the setup of his dinner.

When she arrived, she took out her key, fumbled and dropped it once, picked it up and opened the door. She peered inside first and sighed with relief. He wasn't there. She quickly rolled the cart over to the table and set up the dishes. Saiyans ate at least five times the amount of food that Earthlings used to eat on Thanksgiving night, and they do it three times a day. Thankfully, Bulma was only required to serve the prince dinner, unless he specifically asked for another meal. He usually got breakfast and lunch elsewhere. There were at least three platters of each item, and she set them all up, lids still on to keep them hot. Chichi even put pitchers of ice water on the cart, bless her soul. Bulma happily took a deep breath when everything was finished. She did one final check of all the rooms and nodded once to herself. This is why she had this job. Because even when the prince was being spiteful, she excelled at what she did.

All that was left to do now was wait for his return…

…

Bulma hid behind the largest tree she could find, and ripped her fingertips digging into the dirt beneath it. She cried and bled as the hole finally got big enough and she sat in it, hiding herself from the men that ran by. She was covered in the dirt she sat in, so she hid well between two large roots, and the men were distracted anyway. They were distracted killing all the others. She sat there for hours, crying in silence until her head throbbed and she had no tears left. She sat there as the dirt stung her eyes and dried up in the scrapes all over her hands. She sat there even when her lips dried out and her hair turned solid with the mud. She sat there as the worms crawled into her pant legs and critters bit at her underarms and backside. And just when she thought she was going to die, she found the courage to stand. There was no one left on the battlefield by then. The Saiyans were all gone… She looked around, knowing what she was looking for, and hoping she would never find it. But she did. A familiar puff of gray hair, and another, beside it, a puff of short, curly blonde. She struggled to get to them, climbing over the bodies, slipping on the blood that hadn't dried to the ground yet. And she called out to them, knowing it wouldn't do her any good.

"Mom… Dad… Mom… Dad… Mom…"

Bulma woke up with tears in her eyes.

And she stared across the room at an untouched meal on the prince's table.

She stood and cleaned up her face with her sleeve. It was dark outside already, but the prince never came back to his chambers. There was no way to keep the food in this room, so she had to either choose to leave it for him or clean it up. It was probably cold by now anyway, so she decided to clean it up. But as she reached for the first bowl of miso, a knock came from the door. Bulma immediately jumped to attention and raced over, throwing the door open.

"Who the hell are you?"

Bulma froze as a green-skinned woman awkwardly moved out of her seductive pose and frowned.

"I'm Bulma, Milady, the prince's chambermaid."

"Oh, well… He asked for me tonight. Step aside."

Bulma moved out of the way and the woman entered, looking around, eyeing up the food on the table.

"I'm terribly sorry, but his Highness left early this morning and hasn't returned to his room yet. You can wait for him in his bedchambers if you'd like. I'll inform him that you're here when he arrives."

"Fine. Whatever."

And then in silver heels, she strutted through the double doors, closing them behind her. Bulma frowned. Why would the prince ask for a woman to be sent to his room if he wasn't even going to be here when she arrived? Of course, it wasn't her place to question the actions of royalty, but she could still wonder.

Before she had time to close the door, a guard came rushing under the threshold, gasping for air.

"You there!" he shouted, pointing at Bulma, who froze. "State your name and title!"

"Bulma Briefs, chambermaid to Prince Vegeta, sir," she replied without hesitation, giving a slight bow, as was custom to a guard in the castle.

"Good! Find these things for me and bring them to the throne room, at once!"

The man thrust a piece of paper at Bulma's chest, and as soon as she wrapped her fingers around it, he left without another word, loudly though, as his metal shoes hit the halls' floor as he ran off.

Bulma knew better than to delay, so she unfolded the piece of paper and read the list. It was simple things, to her surprise: towels, water, both for drinking and mopping, general cleaning supplies, a change of clothes for the prince, and a few aprons and smocks. She gathered everything and placed them on the cart from the kitchen and quickly rolled it down to the throne room.

The large doors were already swung wide open and a strong smell of blood hit Bulma like a gust of wind. She coughed and paused for half a second before rolling the cart under the door frame and stepping into the bright candlelight of the throne room.

Of course, she'd been in here before, but not often. The ceiling with the height of the castle itself, and paintings decorated the walls and ceiling, all the way to the top. There were no windows, but huge candelabras hung from the walls, bathing the entire room in bright flame light. Heavily armored guards stood along the walls, but none with helmets. And of course, none of them had weapons. The Saiyans didn't need weapons.

Bulma came to almost the center of the room before realizing what she was walking in on. The king, sitting upon his iron throne, was a massive being. He was the size of at least three of his guards, and he sat upright. Never had Bulma caught him slouching or looking down. He was a fearsome sight, just like the first time…

The other thing she couldn't believe she'd missed on her entry was the prince, lying face down at the kings feet, a puddle of blood around his head. There were already two nurses tending to him, and another was running things back and forth to a supply cart at the edge of the room. Without being told what to do, Bulma immediately carted her supplies to the nurses.

"What can I do?" she asked quietly, very aware that the king was watching them all with cruel and dreadful eyes. It was a known fact that he destroyed people without a single warning, and from the atmosphere in the room, she wondered if she was close to death.

"We're going to flip him over now. Watch out, dear."

Bulma moved and they rolled him. As soon as his face was out of the puddle of blood, he gasped for air, his eyes remaining closed. Bulma watched him with dread. He looked half dead already.

"Who did this?" she asked, rather loudly, and all the nurses froze and looked at her, quickly shaking their heads in fear. Bulma's eyes widened and, without thinking, she looked up at the king, meeting his hate-filled eyes. She wanted to badly to look away, but she couldn't. It was like looking death in the face.

"An Earthling?" the king suddenly said, lifting his chin even higher to look down on her. His voice was loud and demanding, and everyone else fell more silent than before.

"Y-Yes, your Grace," Bulma replied. Her throat felt like it was about to explode.

"What are you doing here?"

"A guard… ordered me to bring supplies to y-your throne room, you Grace."

"Hmm… How long have you lived in my castle, weakling?"

"Th-Three years, your Grace."

"You're quite proper for an Earthling."

"You honor me with your words, your Grace."

He frowned and snarled. "You're getting annoying now."

"Please forgive me," Bulma quickly said, bowing her head, happy to finally be able to look away from him. She ducked away and grabbed a few towels and the ice water from her cart, handing them to the nurses, who struggled to lift the prince's head and place some comfort beneath him as they tended to his wounds.

"Now!" the king boomed, his low voice echoing through the throne room. "Now! We have no room in this castle for a weak prince! If my son ever loses a battle again, I'll have his _head_ next time! We need our future king to be strong! Not some weak fool! He will be brought to the brink of death a thousand times if necessary! My son will never lose a battle again! Or he will pay for it with his life!"

Bulma's eyes went wide as the guards around the room erupted with hollering and cheering for the kings words. What in the name of the gods happened? She thought he was off training and talking to advisers about war strategies and planet-destroying, as he always was. What battle did the prince lose today, and when? Was it when she fell asleep? Was it when she was getting his dinner? Or replacing the carpet? Who was he fighting? And how did he lose? He was second best, only to his father, the king…

"Enough of this nonsense!" the king shouted at the nurses. "Take him to the medical tanks that King Cold has so kindly given us. My son will be healed in less than twenty-four hours thanks to the technology and generosity of the Colds… and their recent surrender to us, of course."

Bulma looked down at the blood-soaked prince. He was unconscious, but gasping for air. There was a pool of blood in his open mouth, and all over his closed eyes, probably getting under his lids, too. His hair was a mess, and his tight blue clothes were practically in shreds. Just watching him… eager for his next breath, Bulma actually found herself feeling bad for him. He was mortal after all… He experienced loss and pain and sadness just like everyone else, didn't he? Three years and she'd never had a real conversation with him out of fear… not that she would be breaking her streak anytime soon, but in a sense, she felt bad for him. And she never thought she'd ever think that way about him. After all, he was cruel, like his father. He murdered people, he raped women. He took whores to his bed and threatened even his most loyal guards. He was rude and unpleasant and demanding and…

Bulma frowned. What was she doing, insulting a man while he gasps for air through his own blood. Is that what this planet turned her into? A Saiyan? She was proud of who she was. She didn't wish harm on anyone, and although she knew how to stand up for herself, she didn't put others down to do it. Even with such a miserable person, she would show him the same respect she showed her friends. And right now, she needed to follow the nurses taking the prince to the healing chambers.

They rolled him through the halls on a small cot, clearly a last minute supply. They rushed as the cot bumped and squeaked on the stone-floored corridors. Bulma trudged eagerly behind them, a pitcher of ice water in one hand and a handful of towels, aprons, and the prince's change of clothes slung over her free arm. It was weighing her down, but for some reason her duty called to her. This was part of her job, after all. This was taking care of the prince, just as much as making his baths and setting up his meals were.

Another thing nagging in the back of her mind was her status. She was ranked a bit higher than a regular maid because she served the prince. But what would happen to her if something happened to him? If his father truly killed him… what would happen to her? Where would she go? Who would she serve? She lived a pretty luxurious life, for being an Earthling… She didn't want to give that up.

"Will he be all right?" she shouted ahead to the nurses.

They didn't even acknowledge that she'd spoken, but instead picked up the pace as if they didn't know the answer. A few turns and bumps later, the swinging door of the medical labs was in sight, and they pushed the cot and the prince right through it without warning. A few personnel jumped and fell out of the way of the cot as they entered.

"Is that… Prince Vegeta?! What happened?!"

"The King," one of the nurses said tersely. "He needs to be placed in one of the machines King Cold gave to us. Immediately!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Two men in white suits and a woman in all blue took the cot and rolled it through another door. Bulma walked ahead to follow, but another man in white stepped ahead of her and put his arm out.

"You're not allowed in here. Go back to your chambers."

"I am Bulma Briefs, chambermaid to the prince, and you will let me through."

"You have no business here, _chambermaid_ ," the man spat. He reached out and hit her arm, knocking the clothes and towels onto the floor. He slapped her other hand and the ice water fell on top of them, soaking them. Bulma's jaw dropped.

"Listen here, you—"

"This chambermaid is making a mess in our medical facility while the prince's condition is dire! Someone please escort her out! Now!"

And before she could get another word out, two men grabbed her and tossed her out the swinging door.

…

Bulma sat in her room with her arms crossed. Her chambers were nothing like the prince's. In fact, she admitted that she'd rather spend her time in his room than her own. And for good reason. Her chambers were barely the size of a small weapons shed. Her bed sat in the corner, taking up most of the room, and her clothes were neatly stacked in a pile in the other corner. She had nothing else. Her clothes were all brown and drab, but they were clean nevertheless, and that's what mattered. The ceiling of her room was slanted downward, so when she woke up, she always remembered not to sit up to fast, or she would bang her head on the ceiling above her. It was a very cramped space, to say the least…

She was a little surprised that she couldn't sleep. She knew she had her position to worry about, but she doubted that the prince would truly die. She'd heard that those healing tanks worked miracles, and Prince Vegeta had still been breathing. His recovery shouldn't be a difficult one. Time-consuming, but not difficult.

So, all she could do was wait. It wouldn't look good for her to be seen wandering the castle late at night anyway, especially when now everyone probably knew that the prince was in recovery. No one wanted to see a chambermaid walking around without anyone to take care of. It would look shady, at the very least.

But then she remembered the laundry, and how Launch and Maron probably returned and realized that she hadn't done a single thing. She looked at the ground. This day just kept getting worse and worse. And when it seemed like it was as bad as it could get, she remembered that she never cleaned up the dinner sitting in the prince's chambers. And what was worse, that whore might still be in his room… with all his valuables… and she was the one that let her into the room… and left her there alone… Oh, gods…

Bulma jumped up and rushed out of her room. She hurried down the halls with only a little candlelight to guide her. She pulled her keys out of her front pocket and unlocked the prince's door as soon as she reached it, entering it with force that almost knocked her over in her rush.

Her eyes widened first because the food was stinking up the place. She had to get rid of it, now, but she left the kitchen cart in the throne room. Oh, gods… what if the king was angry with her for not taking it when she left with the prince—

"Hey, it's you again..."

Bulma whipped around, almost in tears, to find the green-skinned woman, leaning up against the door frame, naked except for her silver heels. Bulma immediately bowed, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Milady, but the prince… has been in a terrible accident. He will not be returning to his chambers tonight. He's currently in the recovery ward, healing in a medical tank. It will be at least nine or ten hours before he is even able to walk again. I came as soon as I could to inform you, Milady."

"Jeez… And I thought I was going to have some fun tonight. Oh, well… Tell him next time will cost him double, girl."

Bulma bowed lower and waited until she heard the door lock behind the whore, who had just walked out of the room without any clothes on, Bulma realized. But she didn't have time to worry about that. The smell was going to soak into the new carpet and the wood if she didn't clean it up quickly. But she didn't have anything to take it out with.

Letting out a silent scream, Bulma pulled on her hair and exited the room, storming down the hall to the nearest laundry room. She unlocked the door and the linen supply closet inside and grabbed a waterproof laundry bag, locked everything back up as she left. When she got back, she took everything off the table, even the kitchen platters and glass mugs, and threw them all into the bag, listening to glass shatter and liquid slush around at the bottom. When it was all off the table, she tied a knot in the top and dragged it outside and down the hallway. She left it beside the nearest trash shoot, unable to lift it high enough to put it in the high hole in the wall. Then she hurried back to the princes room and wiped everything down, and sprayed a pleasant aroma around the floor and wood furniture, especially the one's she'd brought in this afternoon. And by the time she was finished, all she could do was slide onto the floor and sit there, catching her breath. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the new aromas floating around the room. It was a mix of pine and some flower that only grew in the gardens around the castle. She hadn't realized just how tired she was, from going to bad late last night, getting up early, all the extra work she'd done today, and now this… the prince was so badly injured…

Bulma stood and dragged her feet through the double doors, not bothering to close them behind her. The sheets on the prince's bed were perfectly made, and magnificent red pillowcases covered the two pillows at the front of the bed. Before she had another thought, she threw herself onto the comforter with whatever strength she had left and fell asleep almost before her eyes were even shut…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

The room stunk of blood, piss, cum and vomit. Each smell was so strong that you could pick it out from all the others if you thought about it.

This room was only one of about twenty torture chambers in the castle, and all beneath the basement, in dark corridors and damp halls that few knew even existed. There was only one way into these rooms, and only one way out…

A young Saiyan boy was strapped to the table in the center of the room. Men and women in white clothing stood around the table. Some washed instruments in the dirty sinks in each corner. Others sharpened them.

"Please… My love, don't do this. He's just a boy. He doesn't deserve this fate," a young woman pleaded, grovelling on her knees to the strong Saiyan male above her, watching the boy on the table with sharp eyes that glazed over all emotion.

"It's a known fact that a Saiyan's power is increased tenfold once they begin training without their tails. It's a mercy to do it while he's so young."

The boy let out a few gurgled cries as the man spoke, staring at the floor below the edge of the table.

"And he is my son. I will do with him as I please."

"Look at him," the woman continued to beg, "He's scared. you're scaring him. Can't you see his tears. Just let him go. Let him make the choice when he's older, as all Saiyans do. Wait until he comes of age. I beg of you—"

In the blink of an eye, the man slapped the woman so hard that her entire body spun entirely around before her face slammed into the concrete floor.

"Don't hurt her!" the boy cried out, trying to lift his head, despite the chains and straps that bound him, face down, to the table.

"Shut up, boy!"

"It's okay…" the woman said, struggling to sit up on her knees again, she got close to the table and smiled at the boy. "You'll be just fine, I promise. I'll take care of you when it's over, and you'll be fine. Okay?"

"Wench!" The man struck her again, harder this time. She yelped and slammed against the ground, but this time she didn't get up.

"Mother!"

"Enough of this! You don't need some common wench to help you when you're in pain! You're my son! You will endure this and you will be proud of the pain you can withstand! Do you understand me, boy?!"

"Don't hurt her..." the boy cried, staring at the motionless woman, face first in the concrete. "Please…"

"And never beg! No son of mine will beg for the life of a weak female! If she can't even sit up after two hits, then she deserves to be put down like a dog!"

"It… It'll be okay..." the boy heard the woman whisper into the ground. "I… I love you."

"Enough!" the man roared. "Do it now!" He reached for the woman and lifted her up off the ground from the back of her shirt.

"Please… have mercy on him..." she cried, tears mixing in with the blood on her face. The boy watched as the man suddenly slammed his fist through the woman's stomach, ripping out blood and gore, before dropping her lifeless body to the ground. The boy screamed, just as the dull edge of a serrated blade touched the base of his tail. His eyes went wide as they began to cut…

…

The castle shook.

Every person in every corner, from the servants' quarters to the throne room, from the Saiyan elites to the house mice felt it. It shook the base like thunder, but only those nearest to the blast heard the eruption come from the recovery room.

Bulma felt it in her sleep, but didn't wake. She was dreaming of Earth and of her parents. To be honest, she didn't remember her parents anymore. She only remembered that her father had gray hair and her mother was a blonde. She couldn't picture them smiling or laughing. She didn't have any memories with them… It made her very sad when she thought about it. But in her dreams, she made memories with them. Her mother was taking her out shopping at farmers markets, picking up fresh fruit. She remembered apples, which they didn't have on Planet Vegeta, and she told her mother all about the things the Saiyan planet didn't have. The conversations she had with her mother often got dark at some points, and then she would wake up. But she enjoyed this part, where she could just talk and talk and her mother would never interrupt her. In fact, since she couldn't remember the sound of her mother's voice, maybe she never spoke at all in her dreams… She couldn't remember. But when she did open her mouth, it was always a stranger's voice. It was sometimes a man's voice. But she could never remember it when she woke up—

A solid hit to her side jolted her awake. It didn't hurt so much as it was just… shocking to be woken up in such a way. She squinted her eyes and rolled over.

And froze.

The Saiyan prince stood over her, a hateful scowl on his face and his arms crossed a little too tightly. She jumped up and nearly fell to the floor.

"Your Highness!" she said, trying her best not to sound groggy. She looked back onto the bed and held her breath. She never realized she'd been such a light sleeper—the bed was a mess. She'd kicked the pillows and the blanket to the floor and the sheets were all bunched up at the foot of the bed. One corner was even off the mattress itself. "Oh… my… I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I must have been so tired. My Lord, please forgive my actions. I'll make your bed right away. I'll get new sheets and be back in two minutes."

But he was blocking her way out yet again. But instead of being afraid of punishment, something else suddenly came over Bulma and it was relief. She couldn't stop it…

"Wait," she said, breathing out heavily and taking a step closer to him. "Wait, you're okay." And she didn't know why, but she smiled. "I… I'm so glad!"

The prince's eyes went wide and his lips parted before Bulma realized her mistake. But when she did, her nervousness came right back in a hurry.

"Oh… gods… I'm so sorry, my Lord. I was so informal just now… I must still be waking up. I'm so very sorry. I'll get those sheets right away—"

"No, leave them."

"M… My Lord?"

"I want breakfast. Have it ready in ten minutes."

"Of course."

Bulma quickly bowed and headed for the door.

"Oh and servant woman!" She paused and turned. "Bring enough for yourself as well."

…

"That's a little weird," Chichi said, raising a delicate eyebrow. "Maybe he's still recovering from that head injury."

"I hope so. I hate when he acts like that…"

"He's done it before?"

Bulma frowned. "Well, not really. But sometimes he's strangely nice to me, and it's just uncomfortable from start to finish. He's never asked me to fetch my own breakfast though."

"Or invited you to eat with him. You know, if a man did that on Earth, then he was asking you out on a date." Chichi winked.

"A what?"

"A date? Have you really been on this planet so long?" she giggled.

"No, I remember now." Bulma looked at her feet. "It would be better if we didn't think about those kinds of things. You know how it is with Yamcha and all..."

"You're such a romantic, Bulma! Stop worrying about Yamcha. Almost every time you come in here, you make some comment about it, and it's never something nice."

"I don't know how you get anything romantic from me talking about Yamcha."

"No, but you're a romantic because you want something romantic… right?"

"I don't even know what that means…"

"It means tales of knights in shining armor, defending their princesses, slaying dragons for their wives, bravely protecting their daughters until the day they die. Don't you remember the fairy tales from Earth?"

"You remember that planet more than anyone else in the universe, Chi."

"Hmm… well _that_ _planet_ was our home… I would like to always remember where I come from."

"It's just worthless memories to me…"

Chichi frowned. She knew what happened to Bulma's parents and sister. It was the same thing that happened to everyone else's families. But it didn't make it any less painful, and she knew that.

"The prince said ten minutes, right? You're cutting it close, as always. The cart's ready to go. Don't be late."

Bulma nodded once and headed back to the room.

As soon as she entered, she heard a light snoring and sighed. She walked towards to table and turned, not expecting the double door to be slid all the way open. She had a perfect view of the prince, lying shirtless on top of the messy bed she'd created. She assumed he'd be tired after spending so much time in recovery, but that wasn't why she was staring.

Romance, huh? Knights in shining armor… and princes. She didn't like to admit it, but she remembered some of the old bedtime stories her father told her. She knew all about the fairy tales and the love stories… But she also knew that it wasn't her place to think about such things. Yamcha would sleep with her when the king demanded it of them, and he would keep doing it until she was pregnant with a baby girl. And if she happened to have a boy, she would have to do it all over again. And over again. And over again.

She inhaled when she felt a traitor tear fall down her cheek to her chin. She turned away from the sleeping prince and set up his breakfast as quickly as she could, doing her best to make as little noise as possible. When his plates were set up, she took out the single platter than Chichi had made for her and set it across the way, at the farthest seat from the prince. She removed the top to find three small pancakes, complete with a pat of butter and a cup of syrup on the side. She took out a rolled napkin from the cart and a fork and knife as well. She made her setup as pretty as the prince's and couldn't help but smile at her work.

"Late again, woman."

She jumped. He was always so quiet…

"I'm so—"

"Don't you dare apologize to me again. You're setting a record and the day's barely started."

Bulma lowered her head.

"Sit. Eat."

"Yes, sir," she said, almost sadly. She ate her pancakes in silence, ignoring the slurping and chewing sounds from the other end of the table. He was a messy eater, but he always cleaned his plate. So, when Bulma was full before she finished, she wondered if the prince would be mad about her throwing away her last few bites.

"I need a shower after this. I can still smell the blood on me," he spat, leaning back in his chair.

Bulma nodded once and moved to stand.

"Not yet, woman."

She paused and slowly sat back down, watching as the prince closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He looked like he had a lot on his mind.

"Are you going to be busy today, your Highness?" Bulma asked.

"Why would it matter to a servant girl like yourself? What, do you have some _big_ plans for the day?" he snickered, rolling his eyes. Bulma looked down. She wasn't sure why, but she felt like trying to talk to him. After his near-death, Bulma did think about the fact that she'd never really talked to him before.

"Are you going to be training today, my Lord?"

"Of course I will. What a stupid question."

"Are you sure that's all right? You just came out of recovery and your injuries—"

"—What are you doing?"

"Pardon… my Lord?"

"What do you want? Spit it out, woman!" He slammed his fist on the table and Bulma jumped. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Why was she so skittish?

"I… I'm sorry if I've offended you," she said, quickly standing and giving a little bow. "I'll have your shower ready for you in five minutes, sir." But when she turned, he was in her way, showing off that Saiyan speed of his. He eyed her for a moment before narrowing his eyes.

"What's your name again, servant woman?" he suddenly asked, and Bulma blinked a few times, confused. She couldn't tell why, though. Either it was because he seriously didn't know her name, or the fact that he seriously wanted to know what it was. Maybe her confusion came from both prospects.

"Bulma Briefs, your Highness…"

"And how long have you had this position?"

"Th… Three years, sir." Didn't he know this already?

"Hmm."

Bulma stood there for a while, not sure if she was allowed to look at his face, so her eyes darted from the walls to the floor and back again several times before the silence was broken again.

"Make sure the water is hot."

"Of course."

….

Bulma heard Prince Vegeta turn off the water and the creak in the floors as he stepped out and dried himself off. She waited a few minutes after cleaning up the table and pushing the cart outside the room, and he stepped out into the open, a black towel wrapped around his waist, and another in his hand as he grabbed his wet hair in clumps with it. Bulma carefully watched where each drop of water fell, and memorized it for when he left for his usual routine. She was surprised he'd taken so long already, especially with his breakfast request, but after what happened, it's not like she had a right to say what he should and shouldn't be doing with his time.

A knock at the door made her jump again, and she started to get mad at herself for doing it again. When the prince didn't budge, she stood and answered the door.

"There you are!" the green-skinned woman pushed past Bulma and walked straight at the prince, immediately wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning up for a kiss. Bulma was about to blush, but he slapped her instead, causing a silencing clap to echo through the room. The woman's head remained to the one side in her shock, and Bulma gulped.

The woman took a careful step back, her arms at her sides, and gave a small bow. She then looked the prince right in the eyes and smiled up at him before turning towards his bedchambers.

"My, my… What happened to your sheets? Did you have someone in there before me, or is the handmaiden just not doing her job?"

"Get out."

"Excuse me, your Lordship?"

"I said get out. I've already washed. I don't need your filth all over me this early in the day."

"Oh… Of course, my handsome Lord. I'll come back later tonight if you desire."

"There won't be a need for that."

"B… But… your Lordship…"

"If you show up uninvited again, I'll blast your head off and put your naked body on display outside my door for all to see. Is that clear enough for you?"

"Why? Are you trying to turn on the neighbors?" she asked seductively, wiggling her hips back and forth. She had guts, but Bulma noticed that she was still staying a good two or three paces from the prince as she spoke her backtalk.

The prince simply raised one fist, pointing straight out at the woman, and then opened his hand, palm facing out. Bulma tilted her head to one side, wondering what that meant, when all of a sudden a bright light began forming in his palm.

"Get out," he said softly, but the threat in his voice was unmistakable, and the green woman left in a hurry, without another word.

When she was gone, Bulma watched the prince slowly lower his hand back down to his side. He looked close to furious, as if he was going to lose control, but she could see his anger slowly slipping away. She breathed in relief.

"And what about you?" he asked loudly, and Bulma met his eyes.

"What about me, my Lord?"

"You don't want to try anything? Isn't that why you've been such a chatterbox today?"

"I… I don't understand. Forgive me."

"Forgive you? For what?"

"I don't know what you mean, my Lord."

"That's why you were sleeping in my bed. That's why your pulse rose when you were eating at the table. It's why your body heat increased when that whore got close me. It's why you've been talking so much about what I'm doing. You females are so easy to figure out. You think you can hide anything from _me_ , woman?"

And maybe this was the reason Bulma never spoke to the prince before, or tried to engage him in any kind of conversation. Because simple order-following was easy, but conversing with royalty without getting killed… even her friends knew that would never happen.

"Wait... a damn... minute," Bulma hissed. "You think that this whole morning has been me trying to… what? _Sleep_ with you? My _pulse_? My _body heat_? Are you _serious_?! I was trying to see if maybe after three years of dedicated service, maybe I could get to know you a little bit, and maybe you'd be interested to know a little about me, too. Because I do all this work for you for years and you don't even know my _name_?! You have some nerve, standing there all high and mighty while I bring you your food and prepare you showers and clean up that _rotten_ mess you made yesterday! And you think you have some right to declare what _I_ want?! Well, guess what, mister royal pain-in-the-ass! I wouldn't sleep with you if you were going to give me my whole planet back!"

There was a long moment of quiet, and it gave Bulma plenty of time to calm down and realize what she'd just done. Her face slowly went from rage-fueled to fearing for her life.

"I should have you killed for speaking to me like that."

"Then just do it and be done with it," she whispered, a big part of her already accepting her death.

There was more silence. She figured he was probably wondering how she should die. Maybe going over different torture methods in his head…

"What planet are you from anyway?" he asked.

"Don't worry, you blew it up when I was still practically a baby. You can't destroy it anymore."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Well, you were thinking that would be my punishment, weren't you? Blowing up my planet? Well, your people did it already, years ago. You're a little late to the party."

"Oh just shut up and answer me."

"How can I answer you if you want me to shut up?"

"I am going to kill you. Answer me."

Bulma paused, wondering if he was being serious or threatening.

"Earth," she said softly. "My planet was called Earth."

"You're an Earthling… How interesting."

"And why would such a powerful Saiyan find a weak Earthling interesting?"

"You're going to regret it if you keep talking back to me."

"I've said so much already that I'm just surprised I haven't regretting anything yet."

Another pause.

"Do you want to die? Maybe that's what this is all about?"

"If I was planning on dying, I hardly think I'd care to talk to you in my last hours."

He lifted an eyebrow at her and took a few slow paces forward. Bulma backed up as he kept walking and soon realized that she was being herded into his bedchambers. She stopped moving before she hit the edge of the bed, but he didn't.

"You have such nasty things to say to me," he said with a sly smirk, "Why is that, woman?"

"Because you said you're going to kill me. Murderers don't deserve my respect."

"I am your prince."

"You're not _my_ prince."

"Would you like me to be?"

"W...Wh..."

In the next moment, Prince Vegeta was less than an inch from her, and if Bulma took a step back, she would surely land on the bed, and that was the last place she wanted to be right now. So, she held her ground, knowing that her heart was racing and her blood was boiling.

"Please, step away from me."

"Or what? You'll scream for help? Don't make me laugh."

Bulma stared right at his naked chest, unwavering, unblinking. She held her ground, steadying her breathing.

"I said… Step away from me."

"And what if I don't, woman? What then? What if I grab you and throw you down and have my way with you? What will you do? Nothing. Because there's nothing that you could do. No one would come to help you, and if anyone was foolish enough to try, I would kill them for interfering with my fun. Do you not understand that? You, with your angry words and your rude way of addressing your prince."

"You're not my prince."

"Again with that? You are a stubborn one, I'll give you that." He paused and took a quick step back. Bulma still didn't move. He was still too close. "Although… what kind of a leader would I be if word got around that you spoke to me like a commoner and I did nothing about it?"

This was it. Something bad was about to happen and she knew it.

"Lay down," he commanded, narrowing his eyes, but Bulma shook her head. "I won't take you against your will. But you will lay down. Now." Fearing it could easily get worse, she backed up and slowly sat down on the edge of the prince's bed. "All the way, back down." She pursed her lips and did as she was told. She watched the prince gather up two of the fallen pillows and walk over to her. "Lift your head." When she did, he placed the pillows under her. He stood there for a moment, just staring at her. She stared back. "You're afraid..." he said, lifting his chin. "You should be." He reached for her throat and Bulma squeezed her eyes shut in fright, but what came next she wasn't expecting.

The wind was knocked out of her and her rib cage felt like it was about to implode on her lungs. She gasped for air, but only got just enough. Her eyes widened and she looked up at the prince, holding her anti-gravity collar in his hand, waving it around with a frown on his face.

"You'll spend one hour like this. I'll come back and put it back on, and you will immediately drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness. Do you understand, servant?"

Bulma opened her mouth to answer, but her windpipe was almost closed from the weight and only a hoarse breath came out. She wasn't entirely sure she was going to last an hour, but the prince was already out the door, taking her collar with him…

…

Bulma woke up on a hard table, surrounded by bright lights and white coats. She gasped and sat upright, reaching for her throat. She nearly cried when she felt the collar back on her neck.

"You're awake. Good."

One of the people in the white coats was speaking, but she didn't know which one. They all looked the same.

"Your injuries weren't severe. If you're feeling all right, you can leave whenever you feel ready. Prince Vegeta has issued a command for you to return to his chambers when you are healthy again."

Bulma gulped. He throat and chest were a bit sore, but that was it. She wondered what they must have done to heal her. When the collar was off for only a fraction of a minute, she felt like she was going to die. How did she last a whole hour like that? How were her injuries not severe?

"You should hurry. He's not a very patient man, as I'm sure you know now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bulma sneered, struggling to sit up and then stand. She still didn't know who she was talking to, but one of the coats turned around and a woman replied.

"Well, you wouldn't be in here unless what he did to you was some kind of punishment. We were simply implying that you must have done something to test the prince's patience before he brought you here."

"Wait, he… brought me here?"

"And he didn't seem very happy about it, either."

"What… What happened?"

"He removed your collar? Are you having difficulty with your memories now?" A few of the coats turned to look at her, probably ready to give more tests based on her answer.

"No. No, I remember that part. I just… don't know what happened since then."

"That's understandable. You fell unconscious, probably after the first few minutes without your collar. The gravity here does that to weaklings like yourself. And longer than that and you would have died."

"A few minutes? That's how long the collar was off?"

"You wouldn't have survived if it'd been any longer."

Bulma looked at them in confusion. But Prince Vegeta said that it would stay off for an hour. But instead he let her fall unconscious and then brought her to recovery? That didn't seem like something he would do… She couldn't help but think that they weren't telling her something.

"I'd better be off, then. Thank you very much for healing me."

"Try not to piss him off anymore. You're body is a fragile one. You wouldn't be able to survive if the prince was truly angry with you. And our skills of healing are only so limited."

Bulma gulped and nodded before leaving the room through the swinging door. It was a bit of a walk back to the prince's chambers, and she wondered what would happen once she got there. Hopefully, he'd be off training or something. She really didn't want to see him. So much for showing respect… He treated her just as he treated his whores. Maybe even worse. She felt like he saw her as a prisoner. Just a weak Earthling girl that he could bend and twist to his will. She wished she could fight him, even with her words. But sadly, she would only end up getting hurt again.

She hadn't realized the strain on her muscles was so great and she had to pause in an empty hall and lean down on her knees to rest for a moment. She felt like she'd trained harder than a Saiyan, and that was only the affects of the gravity after a few minutes. She truly was weak… wasn't she? She certainly felt like it now. She could barely walk on her own, and the collar was back around her neck.

She took a few gulps of air and continued walking, using the rock walls for support, careful to not scrape her skin on the sharp parts or get too close to the candles and hot wax lighting up the hall.

She came to the door and reached into her front pocket. And froze.

Her keys… Where were they? She couldn't lose them. She had keys to practically every room in the castle, in case the prince asked her to get something that most others could not. But if she lost them… and someone else had them and tried to steal things or… She would be blamed. And then she wouldn't be dealing with the prince. She would be dealing with the king's wrath—

"Looking for these?"

Bulma turned to find the prince walking up the hall to her right, swinging her key chain around his fingers. A firm frown caressed his lips and his eyes looked just as dangerous as ever. Bulma's jaw shook in fright and she lowered her head, remember the last thing he told her.

Without being able to control herself, she cried as she let her knees hit the floor.

"Your Highness, please forgive me. I beg of you."

There was silence for a second before the prince spat, and Bulma looked at the small splotch of saliva sitting next to her on the floor.

"I shouldn't have removed your collar," he finally said, and Bulma looked up at him, her eyes red and wet, in surprise. "I forgot that you still had to clean up breakfast. You were in recovery for too long. You'll work through the night to complete your work. Don't leave until you've finished."

Bulma sat back on her heels and looked up at the prince, something strange in her eyes. He lifted an eyebrow expectantly and Bulma swallowed.

"Yes, my Lord." Her mouth was so dry. "If I may, your Highness. May I ask how long I was in recovery?"

"About six hours." He frowned. "I'll still expect a full meal for dinner, and a hot shower before bed. Don't be late, woman."

Bulma nodded, but something else was nagging at her.

"My Lord, why aren't you in training? Didn't you say that you were going to train today? Forgive me for asking, but I wouldn't want you miss it. If it's because of me, I'm so sorry. I'll—"

"Stop grovelling! Stand up!" Bulma stood slowly, and with noticeable effort. "I completed my training while you were napping! And why would I miss _anything_ because of _you_?!"

"My apologies—"

"Why are you so noisy?!"

"I'm sorry, my—"

"Don't you know when to shut up, or do you need to be punished again?!"

"My, my..."

Bulma turned when a stranger's voice came from the other end of the hall. It was a fat, pink-skinned man in full Saiyan armor. He had a huge grin on his face as he approached them. Bulma heard Vegeta let out an angry sigh and immediately lowered her head.

"What do you want, Dodoria? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"What I saw was you getting all riled up because of a female," the pink man laughed. He seemed jolly on the outside, but Bulma saw a sneaky look in his eyes that she didn't like. "Imagine if your father saw you like this." He laughed again. Vegeta growled.

"Are you seriously trying to threaten me? Do you know how stupid that is?"

"It wasn't a threat at all, my Prince. I was simply stating that it's very un-royal of you to get so angry because of a weak maid. I could feel you energy rising from across the castle."

"The fact that you felt it and still came here proves how stupid you really are."

"Why, my Prince? Are you going to kill me? You'd have to explain that death to the king, as I'm sure you're aware. I am, after all, one of the defenders that his Grace, King Cold, sent here to protect the Saiyan as a sign of good faith. And my death certainly isn't something King Vegeta would like to explain to _my_ king."

"Watch your tongue, or I'll kill you and say it was treason."

"Easy now. We both know you're stronger. There's no need for a fight."

"Then quit begging for one."

"It's just… now that I'm here. May I ask who this beautiful young lady is that has you so frustrated?"

"You may not. Be on your way before I blast you."

"Are you protective of her as well? How curious, little prince."

"It isn't wise to mock me, Dodoria."

"I agree. I should be on my way now."

The fat pink man stretched a sly smile across his face before walking right past the prince and being on his way. Vegeta's anger instantly turned on Bulma and he looked at her in disgust.

"Get in the room and start cleaning. You still need to fix my bed after you slept in it. I want a new mattress tonight to get rid of the Earthling _stink_."

Bulma's jaw almost dropped, but she held her tongue and bowed.

"Well?" the prince demanded, crossing his arms when Bulma remained bowed.

"I need my keys. Your chambers are always locked, sir."

"Tch," he spat again, tossing the keys at her feet and crossing his arms again. Bulma wanted to glare at him, but she stared down at the keys instead until her rage subsided. She held the side of her left leg and attempted to bend down without being in too much pain.

"I thought you were healed!" the prince roared suddenly. "How are you going to properly do your job when you can barely pick your keys off the ground?!"

"I'm sorry, your Highness." Bulma tried to sound sincere, but she was losing herself again. Her voice came out bland and uncaring, and she knew that the prince could tell.

"Enough of this," he grumbled, snatching the keys just as her fingertips reached them. He unlocked the door and walked inside, not bothering to hold it open for her. She grabbed it before it shut again and stepped inside behind him. Reluctantly, she closed it behind her, leaving the two of them in silence in a locked room. "Go to bed, woman."

"Wh… What? But…" She looked at the empty plates, still on the table from the morning. There was still light outside the single window near the garderobe entrance. There were crumbs on the floor and the bed was still a mess. No doubt the tub and shower were both flooded from this morning, too. Bulma waited for the prince to change his mind once he looked around and saw all the work that still needed to be done.

"Are you deaf?!"

"But… My Lord, your chambers are a mess… Please let me—"

"Do as you're told, servant woman!"

"Or what?" Bulma said slowly, sadly. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold herself back much longer at this rate. She wondered how long she would even live in the castle anymore. Now that the prince actually hurt her… she had such a hard time showing the same level of respect as before she'd seen this side of him, especially towards her. "Will you punish me again?"

"Do you want me to?" he threatened.

"Of course not."

"Then why talk back?" he growled.

"I don't understand when you try to be nice to me… after you could have easily killed me, but… you came back to give me my collar."

"Nice? _Nice_?!" He approached her dangerously and Bulma involuntarily took a step back, towards the bedchambers. "Don't misunderstand, woman. The only reason I didn't let you die is because I realized how much of an annoyance it would be to have another servant trained to do your job. It would take too long and I don't have the time or patience to get used to another female strutting around my chambers."

"I do _not_ strut," Bulma glowered.

"Just get some rest so you can properly do your job. I don't want to have to watch you struggle like the weak Earthling you are. You'd probably destroy my dinner or inconvenience me again before the day is over."

"Are you seriously implying that _you_ taking off _my_ collar was an _inconvenience_ to you?"

"Implying?! If you weren't so weak, I wouldn't have had to carry you to the medical facility! You could have just healed on my bed!"

"I'm sorry, was I too heavy for the great Saiyan prince?!"

"You're testing my patience again, woman. Watch what you say."

"Well, now it's a comfort to know that when I get punished, at least I inconvenience you."

"Not if you're dead..."

"But then I can bathe in the gods' glory of how you'd be having _so_ much fun training someone else to do my job, right?"

"I'd just have someone else train the new wench!"

"Yea? And how would she learn that you like the red pillows on the left side of the bed? Or how you like it when the water overflows when you get into a bath? Or how you hate it when the center of your meat is too hot? Or how you need pieces of ice in your water? Or that you want a black towel after sleeping with a whore and a white one after you've finished training? Or what about when your clothes aren't in the right order in the dresser on the right? The new bitch would learn the hard way that—"

The prince was in front of her in a flash, and it took Bulma by surprise. She stumbled, and with how weak the muscles in her legs were, she tumbled backwards, hitting her bottom hard against the ground, smacking another sore muscle so hard she cried out.

"Is that what you are?" the prince asked, smirking. "A bitch?" He slowly leaned down, smiling dangerously at her, getting too close to her face. " _My_ bitch."

Bulma took one last, long look at her sanity before slapping him as hard as she could with an open palm. The clap echoed for what felt like hours, and Bulma breathed like she'd just sprinted a mile, clenching her teeth so hard it hurt her jaw. When the prince finally turned his head back to look at her, he was smirking. She glared at him, with all the hate she'd been feeling since leaving the recovery room, hoping he could feel it emanating from her like a dangerous aura.

"You know… I haven't had a good fuck in over two days, and it's been a _long_ two days…"

"You stay away from me," Bulma hissed.

"I don't think so."

He crawled forward and Bulma immediately put her hands up, trying to push him away.

"It's more fun when you fight," he smirked, pushing her down onto the floor.

"You're seriously going to _rape_ me?!" Bulma cried out. "Are you fucking _serious_?! Get the hell off me!"

Vegeta froze for a moment, but then went back to smirking.

"You say the strangest things sometimes, woman. I'm not going to rape you… You're going to ask me to fuck you, and then I'm going to fuck you."

"How about I tell you to go fuck _yourself_ , and then you get the hell off me!"

"So stubborn… I am the prince on this planet. And you _will_ ask me."

"You're not. _My_. Prince!"

Bulma reached her hand up to slap him again, but he grabbed her before she got the chance. She gurgled for a moment before spitting in his face. He flinched and his smirk disappeared, replaced by a tight frown. He snarled and stood, grabbing her and dragging her up with him. Bulma cried out as he lifted her from sore muscles and threw her onto the bed. As he got closer, Bulma couldn't stop the scream that came out of her mouth.

" _Shut up, wench!_ " the prince screamed back, throwing out his hand to point at her. " _Get some fucking rest!_ "

He slammed the door behind him as he stormed out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

Bulma jolted awake when she heard the all-too familiar sound of shattering glass. She sat upright, throwing a thin, white sheet off of her and looking around frantically. She was once again, in the prince's bed, and the double doors were open. She stared at a white-skinned woman wobbling around the rectangular table in the main chamber. Broken glass littered the floor and the woman began to bend down to pick it up.

"No! Stop!" Bulma shouted, moving to jump out of bed, but one of the sheets was caught and she almost slipped, grabbing a handful of the sheet. She was about to yank it free when she froze in place. The prince was sleeping on top of the other end of the sheet… He had a pair of spandex shorts on and nothing else. He was flat on his stomach, his head turned away from her on a soft red pillow. Bulma gulped and released the sheet, trying to shimmy her way out from under the covers without waking him.

She got free and quietly rushed over to the table, where the pale woman had been watching her from.

"You shouldn't just touch broken glass. You could get hurt," she whispered, heading over to the second dresser on the right. She pulled out a pair of gloves and slipped them on. "I'll get it..." she paused "Who are you again?"

The woman bowed slightly and Bulma lifted an eyebrow. Now that she was really looking, the woman seemed more like a girl, and a young one. She couldn't name the species off the top of her head, but it looked familiar to her. She'd seen men and women with such pale, white skin walking around the castle. Many of them were simple task workers, like maids for the soldiers and dish washers in the kitchen.

"My name is Tara, Milady. The prince requested that I come here to clean his room up. But I thought that he had a personal maid. Do you know what happened to her? Did he have her killed?" The girl looked shocked from her own statement and shivered as she thought about it.

"No, Tara," Bulma lightly laughed. "My name is Bulma, and I'm the prince's chambermaid. I… I'm not sure why he called you in here so late."

"Late? Milady, it's already midday."

Bulma took that in as she picked up the pieces of broken glass and placed them in a pile on top of a napkin on the table above her. So she slept through the night and even into the late morning. Being in recovery must have made her tired.

"If I may ask, why were you in the prince's bed? I thought it was forbidden for maids and servants to… do such things with the Lords and Ladies? At least, that's what my mother told me."

"Uh… I was… just sleeping." Bulma stammered. "He… must have been tired. I didn't expect him to be there when I woke up."

"Well, it is the prince's bed, Milady," the girl laughed, and Bulma had to smile.

"Please, just call me Bulma."

"Is the prince giving me your job, Bulma?" the girl boldly asked and Bulma's smile faded. Sure, he'd spoken about replacing her if she died, but he hadn't been serious… right?

"I… don't know, actually," she frowned.

"Did you make him mad? My mother told me that if you make the prince mad, he'll make your life so miserable that you'll just torture yourself, and he won't have to lift a finger for you to feel punished."

"Your mother... seems to say some very strange things, Tara."

"I think she wants to scare me into being a proper lady, but she also says that I'm just a maid, and I only need to know how to please people and clean things well." Tara looked at the pieces of the shattered glass on the tabletop and her brow furrowed. "She's still teaching me…"

"Well, Tara," Bulma said seriously, leaning in close to the delicate-looking girl, "Learn well and learn fast. Soldiers may not care too much about a broken plate, but if you ever serve a wealthy lord or even the royal family, breaking a plate could be very bad… I don't want to scare you, but you're lucky the prince didn't wake from the clatter. He's been in a very bad mood lately."

"A bad mood?"

Bulma jumped and Tara screeched, whipping around. Bulma growled under her breath. He seemed to do things like this on purpose. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been awake from the beginning.

"What are you doing, wench? Did you make this mess? I asked for a maidservant, not a child," he spat.

"I… I'm sorry, Prince. I'll clean it up right away," Tara squealed, bending down and quickly grabbing a piece of glass. Before Bulma could get a word out, Tara flinched back, a splotch of red in her palm.

"I told you not to grab it!" Bulma shouted, quickly grabbing a few napkins and dunking them into the pitcher of water at the end of the table. She shoved the wet napkin into the girl's hand, almost angrily, and stood. "Hold that there! I'll go get you a washcloth!"

She ran to the bathroom and pulled the smallest towel she could find out from under the center sink and ran it under warm water. She rung it out quickly and came back into the main room. They were both right where she left them, although the prince looked more impatient than before. Bulma handed Tara the washcloth and motioned for her to stand.

"I'll finish this. Go to the medical wing and get that healed up, now!"

Tara didn't bother responding. She just raced out the door, holding the washcloth against her bleeding palm.

"Children are so troublesome," the prince muttered, and Bulma decided it was best to ignore him. She went to work cleaning up the mess. She was going to have to get a vacuum in here to clean up the smaller pieces of glass that got stuck in the carpet. Tara had put pretty much everything back onto the cart. If felt very wrong to Bulma to be cleaning up yesterday's breakfast when it was almost time for lunch. And when she thought about it, she was extremely hungry, too. She'd skipped dinner. But that meant that the prince skipped dinner as well. If she never got it for him… he'd probably never set his own table in his life, much less served himself a meal.

"You must be hungry," she whispered, looking down at what she was doing. She didn't need to, but it gave her an excuse to keep from looking at him. She knew he was standing there, half naked with his arms crossed. She also knew that he'd been taking indiscreet steps toward her since Tara left the room.

"And who's fault is that?"

"I assume you don't really care about the truth and you just want to blame me?" Bulma asked daringly.

"There's that annoying mouth of yours, testing my tolerance."

"I was going to offer to bring you some leftovers from the kitchen, but I changed my mind."

"Good thing you did. I'd punish you for offering your prince _leftovers_."

"Not my prince," Bulma shrugged, walking around the other side of the table to wipe it off. She was careful to remain with her head facing down.

"Don't forget to change that mattress. I barely got any sleep, your stench kept waking me up throughout the night. I want it out before tonight."

"Yea, sure."

"Excuse me?"

"I said fine. I'll do it."

"You're being a little too informal, woman. Watch your tone."

"But is it really my _tone_ that's bothering you?" Bulma asked heatedly, finally looking up at him from the other side of the table. "Is that little girl supposed to replace me?"

"Jealous?"

"More like concerned. She was so scared that she couldn't clean up a plate without hurting herself. Before you interrupted us, she was telling me about torture and misery if she worked for _the prince_."

"Do you have a point, woman?"

"You want to hurt me? Fine. Take off my collar? Do it. Rape me? You can fucking _try_. But don't you dare bring a child into your sick little games. Not while I'm here. I won't let you."

"Not that hurting small children is fun for me, but how would you stop me? Enlighten me."

Bulma frowned. "I would find a way."

"Determined, aren't you?"

"You don't want to bring me to that. Trust me."

"Are you threatening me, servant woman?" Prince Vegeta laughed, uncrossing and crossing his arms again as he took another step towards her, coming around the table, eyeing her up like a piece of meat. "For such an intelligent creature, you're not proving much."

"Thank you for the compliment, your Highness." She gave an exaggerated curtsy and took a step away from him, around the other side of the table.

"Are we really playing this game of cat and mouse?" the prince smirked, stepping again.

"I honestly just want to do my job. Can't you leave me alone?"

She stepped. He stepped. She stepped again.

"This game is getting boring," he said, uncrossing his arms and placing his hands on the table. He leaned forward and sneered at Bulma, who looked away from him. "Come over here. That's an order."

Bulma huffed and crossed her arms. "Why?"

"It isn't your place to ask questions. Just to obey me. Now come."

"I'm not a pet. You can't give me commands."

"I've been giving you commands for three years, woman. Why is today so different?"

"Maybe because you sent me to the medical facility and also attempted to force yourself on me yesterday. You no longer have my respect."

"And yet here you are, cleaning up after me, just as you've been doing since you came here."

"Of course. It's my job. But it's not my job to entertain you. And I want no part in your games."

The prince grabbed the edge of the table and lifted it off the floor like it weighed as much as a pillow. He placed it down to his right and walked straight at Bulma, who stumbled backwards, but regained her balance quickly, holding her ground.

"I don't need your _respect_. All you have to do is shut up and clean, like the filthy Earthling housemaid that you are. Understand? Maybe you have this notion that since you clean _my_ chambers, you have some kind of rank, but don't fool yourself, woman. You are still a maid, and you are still disposable. Replaceable. Don't think any more of yourself than that."

"And what are you, then?"

"I don't need to explain that to you. The concept is too difficult for someone like you to understand."

"Oh, I understand, your _Highness_. You're just the boy prince, whose father beat him up for being so weak—"

Bulma spun around so fast she hadn't even seen him strike her. She hit the hardwood floor with a slap, and immediately felt a stinging in her jaw. She lifted her head and flipped over, making to stand again, but he kicked her while she was down, and she went flailing across the floor like a wet mop.

"Finish your jobs for the day. Leave your keys on the table after you lock the doors tonight. A guard will come and get you for your punishment at first light. You'll work in laundry when he's finished with you and you've recovered. By the end of the day, the arrangements will be finalized for your leave of the castle. I'll have you sent a military camp. You can have whichever position you choose, but it really won't matter. You know that, don't you? The same fate will fall on you no matter where you try and hide. And when all the soldiers are having their way with you… you'll wish you'd asked me to fuck you when you had the chance."

…

There really wasn't a point for her to do anything destructive or spiteful. Bulma ended up doing a perfect job, as usual, before setting her keys on the table, now in the corner of the room thanks to the prince. He left once he told her what was to happen to her, and he hadn't come back since then. It was almost dark out now, and time for Bulma to head off to bed. She didn't want to look at the prince's face now anyway. There was no point. He would just get her riled up again, and she'd probably end up in even more trouble, if that was possible. The military camps were the worst fate for an Earthling girl. Everyone knew that. Especially the prince. All they wanted to do was have children. The gods knew why, but it was known and feared by all Earthlings sentenced to such a fate.

Bulma could barely think about the camps now, though. She had to worry about falling asleep. A guard was going to retrieve her in the morning for the prince's form of punishment. She doubted she would get any sleep with that on her mind…

Bulma took one last, long look at her keys before turning to the door. She paused and turned, looking around the prince's chambers. Was this going to be the last time she saw this place? It wasn't like she was going to miss it, but it wasn't so bad, compared to everything else…

She left the room and headed for the kitchens. If she wasn't going to sleep, she might as well see Chichi one last time…

…

"I'm mostly concerned because you're being so calm about it," the black-haired beauty huffed. "He can't just do that to you. There has to be some kind of rule or loophole. Why are you just accepting that this is happening?!"

"What can I possibly do, Chichi? I have until morning, and then I'll be tortured. Then I'll be sent away to get raped at least three times a day for the rest of my life, however short that turns out to be. If the prince commands it, then I don't have a say. Please don't get my hopes up with talk about regulations and loopholes. That's not what I need right now."

"What did you even do to piss him off that much? From what you've told me, he was always very tolerant with you… other than that collar incident… But you do have quite a temper. Everyone knows that. Even the prince… You can't go and ask for forgiveness before morning? It's worth it if you don't have to worry about camps and torture, you know. And I don't want to see you go, Bulma. I don't want that fate for you."

"There's nothing I can do…"

"Will you stop saying that! I'll go talk to him if you won't! This is ridiculous, Bulma! He can't just send you away like this!"

"He can do whatever he wants, apparently."

"Why do you keep saying things like that? Don't you want to stay?"

Bulma lowered her head. "He hurt me, Chi… He hit me. Too many times. And he was going to rape me… What's the difference, really? If I beg forgiveness and he lets me stay, it'll be the same as the camps… I thought… I tried to talk to him and all of a sudden I learned who he was. And now I'm facing the consequences—"

Bulma gasped when Chichi slapped her.

"Listen to me! You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself! I know you, Bulma! The prince wouldn't have punished you like this unless you provoked him and you should know better! You're smarter than that! And the other times! What did you say to him, huh?! You're my _friend_ and I _love_ you but you need to keep your mouth _shut_ sometimes!"

"I didn't say anything he didn't deserve…"

"Exactly my point!" Chichi threw her hands into the air and Bulma cradled her face. "Now, stop making excuses for yourself and go grovel to the prince so I don't have to lose my best friend! You hear me, Bulma Briefs?!"

It took a while, but she eventually nodded.

"Fine, Chi. I'll go."

…

Bulma knew it was a bad idea from the start. As soon as she stood outside the prince's chambers, she could hear the load cries of pleasure coming from inside. It sounded like more than one female voice, too, and Bulma just wanted to turn around and leave. For one, she didn't have her keys anymore, and knocking on the door was bound to irritate the prince. How was she just supposed to interrupt him when he had a bunch of whores in his bed? What did Chichi really expect to happen? It wasn't like her situation could get much worse, but she didn't want to grovel. She didn't want to make a fool out of herself if she couldn't change her fate anyway. She would only be embarrassing herself even more.

She'd been standing in front of the door for quite a bit before she noticed that the sounds from inside had stopped and everything was quiet, save for a soft pacing from down the corridor. Bulma turned her head to see who was coming, but the door unlocked and she started, wide-eyed, as the prince opened the door a crack and just glared at her. Irritated… of course. But also mostly naked, save for a towel that had clearly been promptly tied around his waist.

"How long are you going to stand here, woman?"

Bulma gulped. He wasn't as angry as before, so maybe she could just talk to him.

"I…" She could think of exactly what she wanted to say, but she didn't know how to put it into words. Her thoughts were too blunt, but she didn't have time to come up with a nice way to say everything. "I'm scared…" she said softly, and she couldn't stop the tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm scared to go to a camp. I can't sleep because I'm scared of tomorrow morning. I don't want to leave the castle." She looked at her feet.

"Is that all? You came here to tell me _that_? Really?"

"I understand that you have much bigger things to worry about, but… I'm going to lose my whole life, and… I don't want to leave. I… I was hoping you'd change your mind about sending me away. I should've have said the things I did, but—"

"Come back to bed, my Prince!" a female voice giggled loudly from inside the chambers. "We're waiting!" Bulma frowned, but the prince ignored the obnoxious sound. Instead, he stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, staring at her intensely. Bulma didn't know what to think. There was another long period of silence.

"You'll still need to be punished, if I agree to let you stay in the castle," he said simply, and Bulma looked up with hope in her eyes, partly hating herself for hoping, but unable to help herself. She waited eagerly, but the prince never finished his thought.

"Please…"

"Fine. I'll figure out your punishment later," he grumbled, not looking her in the eyes. Bulma tilted her head. He always looked at her… because he knew it made her uncomfortable. Why did he look away now? Bulma continued staring at his face, but he never looked back at her, and for some reason she couldn't stop staring. "But," he added tersely, "You will not disobey me again. Is that clear?"

"Yes, your Highness." Bulma bowed low and the prince grumbled.

"Don't exaggerate, woman."

Bulma stood up straight and couldn't help but let out a small laugh. The prince finally looked back at her with a strange glare again, and Bulma's smile quickly faded.

"My Prince!" the women inside giggled again. "What's taking so long? Is it a girl? She can come join us, you know! We play well with others! We don't bite!"

Prince Vegeta motioned for her to enter the room with his head and Bulma was about to shake her head, but remembered the position she was in. She gulped and stepped under the doorway. When she didn't hear him close it behind her, she turned to look at him.

"Out. All of you. Now."

There were three women, all with various skin tones, one of which Bulma couldn't identify her species. She watched them pout and whine as they wrapped themselves up in whatever scraps of clothes they could find on the floor, and they each walked out with a hip-swinging swagger.

As soon as they were gone, Prince Vegeta closed and locked the door and turned to Bulma, who was painstakingly aware that she was alone with him again, and now truly at his mercy. He slowly lifted a hand and pointed to his bedchambers. She had no choice now…

"You'll sleep here tonight," he commanded, and Bulma froze. The prince scowled. "If you go back to your chambers, the soldier will still be there at first light, and I don't feel like calling a messenger to tell him the plans have changed. Understand?"

So he'd already called for her torture… That wasn't reassuring at all. The prince almost seemed to be acting nicely, but all the plans for her departure were already made? That was too fast. Too impulsive. Had he really been that eager to get rid of her?

Bulma replied by simply walking over to the bed and sitting down. He followed her and immediately dropped his towel before climbing into the right side, throwing the red comforter over his body and flipping over, his back to her. Bulma felt a blush creep up to her cheeks before slowly and stiffly laying down on the very edge of the opposite side. The bed was as large as at least five children's beds, so she was in no danger of accidentally touching or rolling into him, even in her sleep, but it was still uncomfortable. She swallowed hard before her head hit the pillow and she gently pulled the sheets up past her shoulders. She knew she wasn't going to be able to relax her muscles knowing that the prince was completely naked and only a few feet from her, in the same bed…

She felt like her current situation wasn't going to help her get any rest, but after a few minutes, the prince's breathing became steady and strangely calming to her. And before she knew it, she was fast asleep as well.

…

"Wake up!"

Bulma groaned and flipped over, away from the awful noise trying to stir her awake. She had been having such a strange dream, and she knew she desperately wanted to hold onto it, but she couldn't remember why. And the noise was making her mad, pulling her farther and farther away from her dreams.

Finally giving up, she opened one eye and looked straight ahead. It wasn't too bright, so she could see fine, but her eyes teared up a bit as she yawned. She stretched her legs first and then her arms, and then rolled over onto her other side to arch and stretch her back out. But just as she opened one eye and yawned again, sprawled out on the bed, she gasped, violently grabbing the sheets and pulling them over her. The prince was standing above her, fully clothed, with his arms crossed and his usual sour expression. Neither of them moved or said a word for a good ten seconds.

"It's quite depressing when the servant is the last one to get out of bed in the morning," he grumbled.

"You could have woke me..." Bulma said softly, still holding the sheets to her chest.

"I just did. Now get up."

Bulma rolled out of bed, taking the sheets with her on purpose, and watched the prince roll his eyes.

"If I see anything I haven't seen before I'll give you the day off," he said, and Bulma was about to take him up on his offer. But then she actually thought about it and narrowed her eyes in disgust.

As she looked at him, her mood changed. He was fully clothed…

"Did you… shower?" Remembering her manners, she added, "My Lord?"

"What does it matter to you?"

Bulma almost laughed, but her face broke out into a small smile anyway. "Well, of course it matters to me. I'm the one who prepares them. I just… wasn't aware that you even knew how to turn the water on," she giggled, but then shut her mouth, knowing that her words were what got her into trouble last time, and apparently they were going to get her into trouble again.

But the prince just frowned even harder and scoffed at her before turning and heading into the main chamber. The table was back where it was supposed to be, and it looked like a child tried to clean up a little. Dishes were stacked a little funny on the hutch, and a shabby-looking pile of half-folded clothes sat on top of one of the dressers.

"Were you… trying to clean?" Bulma asked in disbelief.

The prince whipped around to face her, and Bulma thought for sure that he was going to send her to the camps right then and there but he stared at her and he was… embarrassed? Was that the look on his face? Was there a faint blush on his cheeks? Bulma stared at him and her jaw dropped a little. She'd never seen him make an expression like that before… She didn't think he even could. The prince was uncomfortable… That was a new one.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Just get to work! I have things to do! I want basashi for dinner!"

Bulma couldn't help but laugh this time, and she could've swore the prince's eye twitched. She just smiled and nodded. "Yes, my Lord. I'll have it ready at the usual time."

Prince Vegeta growled as he headed for the door.

"Don't be late," Bulma said, unsure if it was wise to tease him now. But she couldn't help herself. That moment was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. And when he was gone, Bulma had to look around. Had he really tried folding his own clothes? And putting away dishes! All while she slept in his bed. But why? He ran his own shower, too… Maybe he was sick. He could have easily just woken her up and told her to do those things… He knew that all too well. So, it was a choice. He chose to clean up on his own… There was no other explanation Bulma could think of. The prince had to be sick…


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

Bulma was in a military camp. There were men all around her, but she was in a cage, raised into the air above a large rectangular table. It stretched from one wall to the other, and people got around the room by climbing over the top, through the many plates that looked like a full buffet, stacked on top of a white velvet tablecloth. The men pointed and hollered at her, screaming for someone to let her down. It was the first time in her life that she wished to live in a cage and never get out. It was shaped like a bird's cage, with a round top and a flat bottom. She looked down and noticed that the bottom had a hinge—that was where it opened from. She instinctively grabbed onto the bars on either side of her, holding on for dear life.

"Open the cage!" a drunk man screamed.

"Let out the whore!"

Bulma stared in a panic, wide-eyed, trying to look around the room. But she couldn't even memorize a face because they were all so similar. All these men… What did they want from her?

The lights were low. There were some candles, and the soft lights above her flickered every few seconds. It felt as if she could barely see with all the noise, like the sound of shouting and loud, drunken conversation was interfering with her eyes. It was a strange sensation.

Some of the men were in traditional Saiyan armor, but not all the men below her were Saiyan. One, who constantly had his arms stretched out towards her and a slack jaw, had light purple skin with dark purple boules all over his face. She had no idea which species he was, but the way he stared at her was zombie-like, as if he was dead.

Without a glimmer of a warning, Bulma heard a loud snapping noise, and in the next second, the door at the bottom of the cage unlatched itself, and Bulma's hands slipped on the bars as she tumbled down. Her leg hit the table below her at an angle and she cried out in pain. It took her less than a moment to register the sound of shattering glass, and in a matter of one second, the pain from a piece of a dinner plate drew her attention to her arm, where it stuck, holding in the blood as a single drop dripped down to her elbow.

She'd fallen only a couple second ago, and already the men were on top of her, tearing at her clothes and trying to force her down. She tried to fight, but it was no use. There were just too many of them. She cried out once before a piece of stale, crusty bread was shoved so deep in her mouth she felt it cut the back of her throat and she tasted blood.

She made as loud of a noise as she could manage, hoping someone would be able to identify it as a cry for help, but even to her, it just sounded like a loud moan. Some of the men even appeared to enjoy the sounds she was making.

A thick hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed. It got tighter and tighter until she just couldn't breath, and she could feel a tightness in her face as an agonizing headache took over her whole body. This was it. This was how she was going to die…

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Bulma's eyes shot open and she tried to gasp for air, but nothing happened. She reached up and tried to pry the man's hand away from her neck, but he was too strong, and she didn't move him at all. Panicking, she tightened her fingers and dug her nails into the skin as hard as she could, and relief hit her like a wave as the man shouted and winced in shock and pain. He immediately let go of her and backed away a bit.

She coughed like she'd never coughed before. He throat was dry and scratchy, but she noticed that she couldn't taste blood anymore. And the bread wasn't in her mouth. The taste wasn't even left behind. And the other men… were gone.

"Fuck! What are you trying to do?!"

Bulma tried to open her eyes, but she still had a lot of coughing left in her, and she knew it would be a minute before she could respond to anything. But her senses were returning to her, slowly. It must have been a dream. There was no cage above her, and she was on a bed, not a table. There were no military men, and there was no glass shard in her arm. She was perfectly fine… except for the fact that someone had been choking her.

She began to panic again, but she knew that annoyed voice. It was the prince. And this was his room, his bed. She was right where she was supposed to be. But the day had gone by so fast…

Bulma bolted upright, remembering that she'd fallen asleep after finishing her work early. It had been almost an hour before dinner in the kitchens, and she remembered lying down on the princes bed for a quick nap before he returned and she left to grab the food. But his voice was beside her, so he was already back. And now that the coughing was starting to subside…

"Are you serious?! You were going to choke me to death because I fell aslee—"

Bulma froze when she turned, watching as the prince rubbed the sleep from his eyes with one arm, and checked his other arm with a disgusted frown. He was bleeding. And he had just woken up.

"What… happened?" Bulma asked quietly, and not regretfully. She'd hurt him… but he'd been on top of her in his sleep. At least, his arm had been over her windpipe as they slept. And she'd dug her nails into him. Her next reaction was how easy it had been for a her, an Earthling, to make him bleed, even if it was only a little. It surprised her that she was able to draw blood.

"It's dark out already," Prince Vegeta grumbled, still glaring at his arm. Then he turned his hateful eyes on her and Bulma frowned. "And I'm starving. You forgot to bring me dinner. And you fell asleep. On my bed."

She wanted to reply that that's where she'd been sleeping the past few nights and he didn't have much of a problem with it before, but she stayed quiet, trying to think before she opened her mouth to reply. She had already hurt him. She didn't want to anger him even more.

"What time did you get back from training?" she asked, not meeting his angry eyes.

"Does it matter? I came back expecting food and I got a servant sleeping in my bed again."

"You… could have woken me."

The prince grumbled and rolled onto his side, putting his back to her as he laid back down. Bulma tried to look at his arm, but she couldn't see it anymore.

"Are you… going to punish me?" she asked slowly, and it took him quite a while to respond.

"For what?"

Bulma blinked a few times, but decided that it was probably best to not answer that one. Instead, she rubbed her throbbing neck and gently got out of bed. She stood and stretched, winced once from her new discomfort, and then walked towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" the prince called, and Bulma looked back at him. He lifted his head to watch her with narrowed eyes.

"I'm sure you're still hungry. I'm just going to grab something from the kitchen for you, my Lord."

Prince Vegeta stared at her for a few seconds before grumbling and dropping his head back down on a pillow. Bulma nodded once to herself before exiting and closing the door with a sigh.

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"It just feels like every moment I'm dancing on glass with him. I don't know how else to put it, Chi."

The black-haired beauty whisked up some eggs for an omelet as she listened to Bulma's rant. But as usual, it wasn't long before she had to cut it.

"You did fall asleep on the job, you know. If you take the prince's reputation into consideration, he's been extremely lenient on you recently." She paused. "Well, I don't know if it's leniency or something else…"

"Well, what else could it be?"

Chichi poured the eggs into an oiled pan and added a few other ingredients to it. It was a large pan, and at least ten eggs, but everyone around here knew how much a Saiyan could eat, even for a midnight snack.

"Don't you know the science behind Earthling and Saiyan interaction, especially when the Saiyan is the male and the Earthling is the female?"

"What are you talking about?" Bulma frowned. "Please don't make this sexual. He's the prince of the goddamn planet and I'm pretty sure, deep down, he hates my guts and wants to kill me."

"It's not sexual, Bulma. I said it was science."

"Well, now you really have to explain."

Chichi sighed as she stirred her masterpiece. It looked and smelled delicious. It was a blessing that she was willing to stay in the kitchen this late just because she knew Bulma hadn't shown up for the prince's dinner. The girl really was a gift.

"So, I spent a little of my time with the medical department when I first came to the castle, because I was convinced that I could make a good nurse." She rolled her eyes at herself. "I was a little silly back then. I had my head in the clouds… But anyway, they talked a lot about Earthlings in particular. Apparently, we're one of the most interesting topics in medicine and scientific experiment conversations. Well, to Saiyans. Not to the other species."

"Why? We were told when they captured Earth that we're all worthless to this planet."

"That's the thing. You know how they killed off most of the males and kept the females. There's a reason for that."

"Yea, I know. It's because they like how the babies turn out when they get older." Bulma stuck out her tongue in disgust. "But we know how they treat Earthling women everywhere but in this castle. It's horrible."

"I agree. But there's something about a Saiyan and an Earthling being compatible, in more ways than that. Obviously, because I guess a hybrid has amazing qualities, our bodies instinctively want us to reproduce with each other."

Bulma frowned. "That's kind of disturbing."

"But listen to this. I learned that when the relationship is between a male Saiyan and one of us, it drives the man to want to reproduce."

"Please don't tell me you think Prince Vegeta wants to rape me." Bulma scowled.

"I think if that's what he wanted, he would have done it already. The scientists I spoke with back then said something like protection was a factor. Apparently, when a Saiyan thinks one of us is worth mating with—and by that I guess I mean they just find us physically attractive—then a switch goes off in their brain, and some kind of bond is created."

Bulma had to laugh. "I think you're very intelligent, Chi, but I doubt that Vegeta feels some kind of protection bond with me. He hurt me already. He wanted me to be tortured. And I don't know if it was an accident or not, but he tried to strangle me in his sleep."

"You said he just rolled on top of you by accident."

"I don't really know what happened before I woke up, okay? But the point is… that might be true for some Saiyans, but clearly not all of them."

"It was a very complicated dynamic, to be honest with you. I'm just trying to tell you in simple terms. All I'm saying is that it seems like he's definitely attached to you, in one way or another. And I'm just trying to come up with a reason why. And it just seems to make sense because you're from Earth. Earthling females are also known to be able to calm a raging Saiyan, if the Saiyan feels close to her. I'm going to have to try to remember everything they said. It's not all coming back to me just yet."

"I really don't think that's it, Chi. He's just putting up with me. I feel like he could still send me away at any minute. I don't feel entirely safe around him, either."

"Well, whatever you believe, I'm telling you this: It's been scientifically proven that Saiyan males are subconsciously attracted to Earthling females over their own kind. Something about the smell, I think… I'm pretty sure it was just an Earthling's natural scent that they used in the experiments."

"You mean, like sweat?"

"All of it. Sweat, blood, pee, saliva. You name it. Apparently, the Saiyan males in the experiment were drawn to those things in Earthlings, but not in other Saiyans. It was actually really weird. And to be honest, I think that's the main reason they keep us alive on this planet. I think it's just because of some natural "like" that they have for us. Otherwise they would have gotten rid of us along with the men, don't you think?—Oh! The omelet!"

Chichi quickly flipped the eggs and finished them with some salt and pepper. She threw them onto one large platter and handed it to Bulma with a smile.

"Don't keep the prince waiting," she smirked.

Bulma rolled her eyes and took the platter.

"The prince doesn't think of me that way," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. "He makes it very clear that I'm just a servant. Unimportant and replaceable. I just hope he doesn't say it so much that I start to believe it."

Bulma frowned when her black-haired friend started laughing. When she finished, Bulma continued to frown.

"I'd like to see him come in here and ask for his own food one day," she snickered, wiping a tear from her eye. "Yea, right."

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"Sorry, there were only a couple people left in the kitchen," Bulma said, bursting into the prince's chambers. A part of her still expected him to be asleep, but he was awake, in only a tight pair of dark blue, spandex pants, sitting at the table. She took a second to take a mental picture of his chest and arms, although she saw him like this pretty often. It didn't make it less impressive, though.

Bulma took the cover off the platter and gently set the steaming omelet in front of him. She pulled some rolled silverware out of her back pocket and set it down next to the platter before bowing slightly and taking a few steps back.

Bulma stood there awkwardly before the prince snapped at her.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch me eat, then?!"

"I'm sorry," she jumped, heading for the bathroom. Maybe there was something to clean where she could have at least a door between them. Chichi's words danced around in her head like a joke she didn't understand yet. But there was no punchline. There would be no moment of recognition where she would feel a light bulb go off and maybe laugh a little. It just felt like a really poor joke that unluckily got stuck in her head.

Why would a Saiyan be attached to an Earthling, anyway? Everyone already knew that her species was one of the weakest in the world. And as for the powerful hybrids, an Earthling female's purpose here was literally to get raped and produce as many children as possible before the poor woman, or girl, died. And no one on this planet ever died from old age or natural causes. It wasn't like her kind were treated as special, unless mistreatment was special to them.

No. Chichi had probably just been listening to the ramblings of bored doctors who had nothing better to do with their free time. And as for the experiments, Saiyan men were all savage warriors that lived their lives one bloody battle to the next. So, of course they would be attracted to the smell of a woman. It was common sense, not science.

"Woman!" Prince Vegeta shouted, and Bulma came rushing out of the bathroom after standing there, pondering. She hadn't cleaned anything, but she doubted he'd notice.

"Yes, sir?" she asked with a bow.

"I'm not tired. I'm going back into the training chambers for a few hours."

"I'll clean up and have your room ready for you when you return, your Highness."

"No…" he trailed off, looking away from her and leaning back in his chair. He put his hands behind his head and tilted his head to look up at the ceiling. "There won't be anyone monitoring the training chambers at this time… You'll come with me and monitor the gravity."

"The… what?"

"Are you stupid?" he snapped.

"No, I know what gravity is. It's just… I don't know how to work those machines. I've never even been in one before, much less looked into how it works."

"You don't need to be an expert. You just watch the dials and make sure it doesn't get too high or too low. You'll only have to touch two levers, if anything. One to change the gravity and one to turn the machine on and off. Even someone like you could figure it out."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bulma grumbled, placing her hands on her hips.

The prince stood without even a change in his expression. Did he really think she was stupid? He walked over and opened the door.

"Don't you want to put some clothes on?" Bulma asked, still a little peeved by his comment.

"Are you sure you're not asking me to take them off?" he smirked, and Bulma felt her face get heated a bit in embarrassment.

"Absolutely not."

The prince turned and walked out, his back to her and his foot in the door, waiting for her to follow. Bulma sneered at his back, trying to ignore the fact that his shoulder blades were attractive as hell to her. She ignored the voice in her head telling her to place her hand against his bare skin as she walked out the door with him. Maybe Chichi had it wrong. Maybe it was the females that were attracted to the Saiyans? There was no way it meant she had an ounce of respect for the jerk prince, but she had to admit that he was hot. If she had to describe the perfect man in terms of sex appeal, Prince Vegeta came as close as anyone she'd ever met… But that didn't mean he was a good person, and when she thought about it like that, it almost made her sad.

"We're here."

Bulma almost bumped into his back, and she would have if he hadn't opened his mouth. She looked around him and only saw a white door.

"This is where you'll watch the monitors. It's not that difficult."

He opened the door and didn't hold it for her. Bulma was used to it, but almost expected him to from her previous thoughts. She entered a brightly lit room, full of different instruments and computer screens, all covered in flashing red and yellow buttons. The prince flicked a switch and one of the red lights started blinking green. A single monitor came on and the screen showed a round, dome-lidded room. It was lit with all red lights and the floor, walls and ceiling were all made of metal tile.

"Wait here," the prince commanded, and Bulma just nodded. She knew the purpose of these machines was to help train Saiyans for combat, but she wasn't sure exactly how it worked, other that gravity manipulation. It was an interesting machine, to say the least. She just wished she knew more about it.

Prince Vegeta left the room, and about a minute later, his voice came out of a small speaker to Bulma's left.

"Hold the blue button to speak. Release it when your finished. I'll hear you when you're pressing it down. I'm going to enter the gravity chamber and you'll see me on the screen. When I'm in the enter of the room, turn the big black dial to fifty. That means you're increasing the gravity. Don't put it past fifty unless I tell you to. And _never_ turn it off unless I tell you to. Do you understand?"

Bulma held the blue button down to speak.

"You're going to walk into the red-lit room on the screen here, and when I see you stand in the center, I'll turn the black dial to ten, no more, no less. Got it. But how will I know when you want me to turn it off?"

"I'll walk back over to the comms and tell you." He sounded like it was common sense, but she'd never done this before, so how was she supposed to know?

"Okay, sure—I mean, yes, sir."

There was a bit of static before Bulma turned her eyes to the screen and watched as the prince, still in just his tight pants, walked to the center of the room. He stood up straight and stared right at the camera. Bulma froze for a moment, realizing that he probably couldn't see her, and she was just watching him, shirtless. The thought excited her a bit, but she quickly remembered the directions and reached for the black dial. Assuming it was best to crank it up slowly, she turned it to two, then three, watching the prince carefully. It didn't seem to be doing much until she hit thirty, when his shoulders quickly dropped and he gritted his teeth. Bulma cranked the dial to forty a little faster and she watched as he opened his mouth in what must have been a shout. She wondered if there was a way to let her hear him, but she didn't want to start touching things. She decided to just put the dial on fifty and get it over with, so she turned it and let it sit on fifty, watching the screen.

The prince dropped to his knees and opened his mouth, probably shouting again. She watched him struggle to get back on his feet and after a minute of slowly moving around, he began throwing punches into the air. And then kicks. And then he was jumping and moving around so fast she could barely keep up with him on the screen. She watched in amazement, the only thought in her mind being how amazing a Saiyan's physical talent was. She'd never seen any of them train like this. She'd seen fights and deaths but they were bar squabbles compared to the prince.

There were times when she stopped watching the screen over the next hour and a half, and every time she caught herself she felt a little bad. He was clearly stressing his body by doing this, whatever it was, really. She didn't know what the dial meant, other than the fact that it was increasing the gravity. And all she could think of was when he removed her collar, and how she would have crushed under her own weight in a matter of minutes. This clearly wasn't the same as that, but it was all she had as a reference. So, if she felt bad for looking away, it was because she remembered her own pain, and she didn't want to see anyone hurt like that. Not even the prince.

Another thought that crossed her mind was the sense that he was trusting her. When she looked at the black dial, it's numbers ran all the way up to five hundred, and yet he fell to his knees at fifty. If she decided to turn the dial up all the way… would he just die in an instant? Or would he fall and scream and cry out and die slowly, as his bones crumbled and fractured? As awful as he treated her sometimes, she would never want to kill him like that. There were times she wanted him dead, she had to admit. But not like this. She wouldn't wish that kind of pain and death on even her worst enemies.

Bulma shook her head, realizing that she'd taken her eyes off the screen again. She blinked a few times and then jumped. The prince was waving at her… She watched him, making sure that he really wanted her to turn down the dial so she wouldn't get in trouble. He pointed his thumb down and motioned again and Bulma nodded once before doing it slowly. She dropped it to forty, then the thirty, and then quickly to ten and then back to one. When she looked back at the screen, the prince was gone, and she yelped when the door opened behind her.

"We're going back," he panted, and Bulma turned, frozen for a moment by his appearance now that he wasn't drowning in dark, red light. He was covered in a shimmering layer of sweat, and she realized that he still wasn't wearing shoes, either. His bare feet hit the floor as he turned. "Come on, servant woman. Prepare me a hot shower." He was panting, too. He'd been training for almost two hours in there. She knew she couldn't even begin to comprehend what that entailed.

"Yes, sir," Bulma bowed. She switched off the machine and everything powered down, going back to red and yellow lights and blank screens.

The walk back to his chambers was quiet, and a regretful thought came over Bulma.

"I… I'm sorry about your arm. I shouldn't have done that…"

"No, you shouldn't have…," he replied. She lowered her head. "But if you hadn't, you might have died. I've been told I'm difficult to wake up sometimes."

He was… making conversation with her… Bulma was a little in shock. It was surprising, and not even in a good way. It was just… a little weird.

"So you just… had your arm on me?" she asked, regretting the way it came out. She just wanted to know what happened, but even she could tell the implications of what she'd just asked.

"I must have rolled over," he replied, quietly, ignoring the implications. Maybe he was so worn out from training that he didn't notice. After all, it was the second time he'd trained that day, too.

"You must be exhausted…" Bulma frowned. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a bath, instead? I can bring you something else to eat from the kitchen. My one friend who works there said that she put some things away for leftovers and I was free to take them for you."

The prince didn't respond, but when they got back to his room, Bulma pulled out her key and stepped in front to unlock it for him.

"I'll take a bath, then," he answered, and Bulma almost forgot the question, but turned to him with a light smile. She tried to keep it on her face, but he really was tired. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Of course… you can relax on the seat there while I run the water. It'll only take a couple minutes."

"And make sure the water—"

"—the water will be really hot, don't worry," she said with a smirk, cutting him off. He didn't seem entertained, but she had to smile anyway.

He sat down at the table and waited the three minutes for the tub to fill. Bulma came out with a towel and yelped when she saw him stand, his pants on the floor next to the seat. She quickly looked away, not giving the bad side of herself the opportunity to look long enough to have a mental image scar her.

"Th-The bath is ready, your Highness."

She looked straight at the floor as he strode past her, into the bathroom. He didn't shut the door behind him, but she heard him get into the tub, and the familiar splash of the water overflowing onto the tile floor.

"I'm going to go grab something from the kitchen. It won't take five minutes," she called, rushing out of the room. It took her one minute to get there, two minutes to grab so heated food, and two minutes to jog back without spilling anything. She opened the door and gently set the plates on the table. Prince Vegeta wasn't out of the bath yet, but she didn't hear any movement of water. Carefully and slowly, she walked over and peered around the corner.

The prince's eyes were shut, so she relaxed a bit as she watched him. The glare on the surface of the water hid everything that was submerged, and she noticed that he was slowly sliding down into the water. His chest was all under and his shoulders went under after a minute. His breathing was slow, and he looked like he was already asleep. Bulma creased her eyebrows and tiptoed over to the side of the tub, bending down. Just before his neck was totally underwater, she placed three fingers under his chin and softly lifted his head up. It fell a little towards her and she steadied it with her thumb on the side of his jaw.

Without warning, the prince slowly opened his eyes and looked directly at her, half-asleep. His lips parted as he exhaled and Bulma felt her face go completely red. She quickly, but lightly, took back her hand and stood and ran out of the room, stopping when she was next to the food platters on the table.

"What the hell was that?" she whispered to herself in a slight panic, barely enough for her to hear. Her breathing was ragged from just a quick sprint around the corner, and her heart was pounding. Maybe she needed to exercise a little more if her stamina was really that bad…

She listened intently for the next few minutes until she heard the water splashing around as the prince got out of the tub. Another minute later he walked over to the table with a towel around his waist and sat down, his tired eyes barely seeing the food in front of him. Bulma frowned.

"Here," she said softly, pushing a small bowl of rice and chicken towards him. "Even if you can't eat that much, you did just exert yourself, so you should have a little."

Prince Vegeta took a few forkfuls of rice, and as he was about to take another, a light knock came from the door, startling Bulma. She looked to the prince to instructions, but he just ate the next forkful, so Bulma stood and answered the door.

Just as she cracked it open, a woman pushed her way in and walked right past Bulma.

"H-Hey!" Bulma called, leaving the door open as she caught the woman by the arm.

"Don't touch me, peasant filth!" the woman spat, but Bulma didn't let go.

"What are you doing? Why are you here so late?"

"That's none of your business, peasant girl. Let go of me before I break your fingers."

The prince didn't seem to care about anything that was happening, and Bulma liked her fingers, so she let the woman go. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around the prince's shoulders and rested her head on his.

"You don't seem like yourself, my Lord. Are you feeling alright?" she cooed. Bulma gulped and just closed the door. "Here, let's go to your bed. I'll make you feel real good before you sleep. How does that sound?"

Bulma noticed that he was practically sleeping in his seat. But he managed to squint his eyes, stand up from the chair and walk over to his bedchambers. Bulma frowned as she watched the woman take off his towel, and for some reason she wasn't blushing at the view this time. Her attention was strictly on the woman, who turned around and lifted an eyebrow.

"Does watching get you off, peasant?" she sneered. "Or maybe you're just jealous, then?"

Before the prince was even on the bed, the woman, constantly watching Bulma, dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth. Bulma watched without moving or flinching, but a sudden breathy moan from the prince took her by surprise and she quickly closed her mouth. The woman pulled back to push the prince onto the bed. He fell backwards and landed on the mattress heavily, legs hanging off.

"You should probably just go home, girl. He won't need you until morning."

Bulma opened her mouth to object, but the woman continued her work and the prince sounded like he was enjoying himself very much. She couldn't help but blush, but she couldn't understand what she was feeling. It wasn't sadness or anger, or even jealousy, which would have been surprising, but not as surprising as not knowing _what_ she was feeling. It was strange, but she felt like leaving now wasn't a very good idea. Maybe it was distrust of the woman? She didn't think she should leave her alone with him when he was this tired. It was something like that, but she hadn't quite hit the nail on the head.

"Did you hear me? Go home," the woman barked, now climbing onto the bed with the prince.

Bulma pursed her lips and walked into the bedchambers.

"What are you doing? I said get out of here!"

Ignoring her, Bulma leaned into the bed on her forearms so her face was right next to Vegeta's. She waited until his eyes opened and he was looking at her. She had no idea what she was doing.

"Are you all right?" she whispered, somehow finding the courage to look him in the eye. He slowly nodded. "If I go back to my chambers now, are you going to be okay?" she repeated softly, and he nodded again, a strange expression on his face. She blamed how tired he was for any weird faces he made. "I'll be back at first light, then. Please try and get some sleep tonight."

As she began to lean back to get up, he grabbed her arm. She watched his eyes drop to her neck and he let go of her to run his fingers over her skin there. Bulma winced at the unexpected pain. She must have bruised already from before… And she thought for sure he was about to say something as his lips parted.

"—Ahhh…" The prince's eyes closed, and he quickly retracted his hand as his muscles tightened. The woman went back to work, and Bulma tried not to look at what was happening as she headed for the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

Bulma barely got an hour of sleep.

She didn't know why she even gave a damn. The prince did that kind of thing all the time, and it never bothered her before, besides sometimes making her a little uncomfortable, and rightfully so. But it wasn't like he couldn't handle himself, either. If the woman tried anything, even in the state he was in, Bulma was confident he would be easily able to defend himself against a woman like that—she forgot the woman's species' name, but they were no warriors. At least they didn't have to wear the gravity collars, though… But they were no match for the Saiyan prince, even on his worst day.

She felt like what bothered her the most was how tired he got after training. Did that always happen or maybe she just never noticed? She was never with him when he trained before yesterday. That was the first time she'd ever seen him do that. Yet, something just felt off to her. He would have kicked the woman out if he just wanted to sleep, but he acted like he didn't care. She just hoped that he hadn't been so out of it that he didn't notice what was going on. But he had responded to her questions before he left. And he could make his own choices, however stupid she thought they might be.

Bulma frowned as she noticed the bags under her eyes in the mirror in the hall on her way back to the prince's chambers. It was first light, and she wished she'd just told him she was going to sleep in this morning. He probably wouldn't have objected, either. This was probably her punishment for taking that nap yesterday before dinner.

She quietly unlocked the door, half thinking about breakfast, and half hoping that the woman was gone by now. But as she opened the door, she mentally sighed. The woman was sitting naked at the table, a paper and pen in front of her. She seemed focused, but looked up when Bulma shut the door quietly behind her. The woman put one finger to her lips before ignoring her and continuing writing whatever she was working on. Bulma slowly walked over to the prince's bedchambers—all she saw was the gentle rise and fall of the blankets—and quietly shut the sliding door.

"He'll probably be out for a while," the woman giggled. "I didn't let him get much sleep." She seemed proud of herself, but Bulma just frowned and walked past her.

If the prince wasn't awake, there wasn't much for her to do just yet, other than clean up the couple plates from last night. She couldn't start the bath or the shower. She couldn't begin preparing breakfast, either. And if he was going to be out for a while, he wouldn't even start messing anything up in the room, and it was pretty much all clean from yesterday. And while he was out like a light, she couldn't even tidy up his bed. She would have to find some side work elsewhere for most of the day, she assumed.

But instead of just leaving, she gave a slight bow to the woman to be polite.

"Would you like me to grab you some new clothes from the laundry, ma'am? It will only take a few minutes."

The woman didn't look up. She tapped the pen against her bottom lip and sighed. "Yes, get me new clothes, servant. And make it faster than a few minutes or I'll inform the prince of your negligence when he wakes—"

"I'm offering to do you a _favor_ ," Bulma snapped quietly. "I'm not your maid or your mother, and to be frank, I'm tired of the way you've been speaking to me. And if anything, you're just a whore. You're less than me in standard society here. Maybe you should be the one fetching _my_ clothes."

The woman just smiled, as if morning banter was refreshing for her.

"If you're looking for a please and thank you, you're not going to get it. You see, you may think that a whore is lower than you, but in reality, I had the prince of this planet saying please to me all night long. An uneducated, unattractive, unattentive servant like you wouldn't even be able to get him to say "pepper"."

"So noisy," the prince growled, sliding open the door and stepping down the one step. He was, thankfully, wearing a tight pair of shorts. Bulma wondered if Saiyans even owned any baggy clothes. None of them wore anything other than skin-tight garments or armor.

"My Lord!" the woman exclaimed happily. "I'm glad you're awake. Did you sleep well?"

He raised a critical eyebrow.

"Vegeta, say pepper," Bulma said quickly, and the woman rolled her eyes.

"Keep me out of your childish games, woman," the prince grumbled.

"Why are you still here?" Bulma spat at the woman, slightly embarrassed that he didn't say it.

"I don't have to answer to you," she said, but then turned to the prince. "I was only making sure that our future king was enjoying his rest. And seeing as his unfaithful servant left him, I felt it was my duty to—"

"—Vegeta!" Bulma shouted. The prince suddenly grabbed his head in his hands and dropped to the floor without a sound. The whore-woman stopped talking and just gawked at him. Bulma quickly dropped down beside him and brought her face close to his. "What's wrong? Should I alert the medical facility? I can have someone here in less than a minute."

He muttered something and Bulma brought her ear closer to his mouth to hear him better.

"That's _Prince_ Vegeta to you," he grumbled.

Bulma stared at him in shock for a second before he flinched in pain again and she groaned.

"I knew there was something wrong with you last night! Why didn't you just say something?" She gritted her teeth and whipped around to face the woman. "Watch him! I'm going to go get some help!"

"I don't take orders from peasant girls…" she replied, but he wary eyes were still on the prince. Bulma knew she would watch him from her expression.

"I'll be right back!"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It wasn't difficult to minimize the time. Once she barged into the medical wing and yelled that the prince needed help, everyone started moving, and there had been a number of personnel that went on ahead of her with equipment and such.

Once she returned to the room, she noticed that they were treating him on his own bed. She also noticed that the whore-woman was missing. Did she really leave? At a time like this? How strange…

"You can leave," a man in a white coat said to her before hurrying over to the prince with the others. Bulma frowned, and wondered what she should do. She wanted to listen, and do as she was told, but only because she didn't want to get in trouble. A bi part of her wanted to stay and know if the prince was all right, for some reason she couldn't fathom. Maybe it was a fear of losing her job, and the only reason she was allowed to stay in the castle.

"No, have her stay," another voice said, and it was a woman's. Bulma turned and looked for who had said that. "Over here," the voice came again, and Bulma found herself looking at a pale-pink woman in a black coat. She had white hair and purple eyes. She carried a clipboard and motioned for Bulma to come closer to her and the prince.

"Do… you know what's wrong with him?" she slowly asked.

"We've narrowed it down to a few options, yes. But you should listen to what's going on. You're the prince's chambermaid, correct?" Bulma nodded. "You need to teach yourself how to react better to these types of situations. Keep in mind that if the prince is injured on your time, the king will have you publicly shamed and executed."

Bulma gulped and nodded once.

"How long has the prince been showing signs of fatigue?" she asked, putting her pen to the clipboard and staring daggers into Bulma's face. She stuttered for a moment, afraid to answer with the truth, but knew she had no choice.

"He was training in the gravity room late last night and he started acting a little off shortly after we came back here."

"We?" the woman asked skeptically. "Aren't your duty's finished shortly after dusk?"

"Yes. Well, I mean… He said he needed someone to work the machine for him."

"There are people he can call who are always on standby. Everyone knows that Prince Vegeta is prone to late night training… Did you make any mistakes with the machine? Turn the gravity too high, for instance?"

"No!" Bulma replied, baffled. "Of course not!"

"Don't get defensive, Earthling. I wasn't implying that you would do it on purpose… But your reaction certainly is something to note…"

"I didn't do anything!" Bulma shouted, and a few people glared at her for making a ruckus.

"Next question. Why did you return here with the prince after his training was complete? Shouldn't you have just gone back to your room then?"

"He wanted a bath… and he wanted food from the kitchen. Why are you questioning me like I've done something wrong? If you have something to ask, ask me directly!"

"I am. But I will also note your defensiveness." She jotted something else down on the clipboard and Bulma creased her eyebrows in worry. "Next question. What other events occurred leading up to now?"

"He just… took a bath and ate a little. And then a woman stopped by and she…" she trailed off. "I left after she got here."

"You left the prince with a prostitute when he was in bad condition?"

"I didn't just leave him! I asked if he was alright. And he said yes!"

"He said that to you?"

"Well, he nodded."

"How do you know he wasn't just moving his head?"

"Are you serious?! I didn't do anything!"

"Next question. Explain his condition throughout the night, beginning with his training."

"He was fine! He finished training and I noticed that he looked tired. But who wouldn't be exhausted after being in that room for hours? Then he got back and took a bath. He was falling asleep in the water so I figured he was just really tired. Then he sat down to eat and it wasn't like he was throwing up or anything. He ate what he could and went to bed with the woman."

"So he fucked her?"

" _Excuse me_?"

"The prince fucked the prostitute, most likely exerting a lot of physical energy. Correct?"

"Well… I… I _left_. I wasn't _watching_ them the whole time."

"What did you see?"

"What does it matter what they did? Isn't it self-explanatory?"

"Next question. You went home, and then you returned. How long ago?"

"Literally a few minutes before I came to get you to help him."

"And what happened in those few minutes?"

"I just… I just unlocked the door and saw the woman and the prince woke up and walked out of his room, and we were talking for a minute. And then he just collapsed."

"The woman was still here when you arrived?"

"Yes."

"Did you notice when she left?"

"She was here when I left to get help."

"Noted… What was the prince talking about when he woke up?"

"I… I don't remember. I think we just woke him up by being a little too loud and he came out because he was awake."

" _We_ as in you and the prostitute?"

"Yes."

"All right." The woman continued jotting down notes or something on the clipboard. After a minute or two of that, she lifted her head and stared blankly at Bulma. "As of now, you will be informed of the prince's physical ailments. You are to be trained twice a week to handle situations like these to better aid our Lord as his primary caregiver."

"Caregiver? I'm sorry, but I'm not a doctor."

"As the prince's private servant, you should be well-versed in how to care for a Saiyan when they are injured, sick, or anything of the sort. Do you understand? It's unimaginable that you haven't been trained for this before. Why does he even keep you around if all you can do is clean?"

A man in another white coat walked over and whispered something in the pink woman's ear. It lasted a while, but the woman jotted down some more notes, nodded a few times, and the man was gone. She turned back to Bulma.

"Our experts have concluded that the prince's condition is orthostatic hypertention, or syncope. It was caused by a sudden change in blood pressure and heart rate, which was most likely from the gravity training, and also possibly dehydration throughout the day. The vagus nerve was also overstimulated, which must have also been during the gravity training. As for why it lasted so long, I would simply say that the prince has a high tolerance and his body would not shut down until he couldn't deal with it anymore." The woman's expression changed then and she glared. "As for you, you need to learn to deal with these situations. At any point during this did you bring the prince a glass of water?"

"N…No." She lowered her head.

"He was dehydrated. Water may have made it so that he had been fine in the morning. His blood pressure and heart rate should have been monitored as well. Leaving him here with an eager prostitute was probably one of the worst things for him in this situation. Water and sleep would have saved everyone from all this trouble. You're his servant, and you didn't even realize these things? How disappointing."

"He told me he was okay… What else am I supposed to do? I can't force him to do anything."

"You told me he simply moved his head. He never replied to your question."

"I know what he meant!"

"That's enough. Learn from your mistakes. Although, there may not even be a next time when the king hears about about this."

"The… king? But why?"

"His Majesty is always informed when the prince is physically ill. And of course, his Highness will request a full documented recollection of the events leading up to his successor's ailment. Nothing will be left out, I assure you."

"That's enough."

Bulma almost smiled when she saw the prince was standing. She didn't know what came over her, but she put her hand to her chest and sighed.

"You're alright… I'm so glad."

There was a quick moment of silence before she realized she'd been ignored and the prince began to talk with one of the doctors in white. She wondered why she'd reacted that way. It was as if she honestly cared if he was healthy or not. I wasn't just the fear of losing her job and having to leave the castle, or even the fear of execution. It was something else…

"Apparently, you'll be receiving training on common Saiyan health once a week for a few months," the prince said after a moment, and from across the room, too, so everyone could hear him. Bulma flushed at the attention and nodded once before putting her head down.

"Understand that you could have easily avoided this situation, had you known how to respond," the pink woman said, grabbing Bulma roughly by the arm. "The last thing this planet needs is a stupid servant girl making mistakes that put the lives of our royal family at risk. I assure you that the king will hear about everything that has happened here—"

"You will not inform the king of this," the prince said, staring the woman down. She gulped, but tried to keep her composure.

"Your Highness, it is important that his Majesty be told—"

"If I have to repeat myself, I'll kill you right now. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord—"

"You'll burn all documents you've created from this incident and no one in this room is allowed to speak of this for the rest of your lives. Give me your clipboard."

The pink woman quickly bowed and held out her notes. Prince Vegeta grabbed it in one second, and blasted it with a small beam of light from his hand in the next second. No one even flinched. Even Bulma stood frozen.

"Now leave."

The room emptied as if it was on fire, but Bulma stood in place, hoping that he didn't mean her as well. She stared at him, but he seemed to be ignoring her again. It was only after a couple minutes of him slowly walking back and forth that he looked over at her. She was still looking at the floor, but she could see him look over out of the corner of her eye. But he didn't say anything for a while, so she decided to try and break the ice.

"So… does that mean I don't have to go for training?" she asked jokingly, but when she looked up and saw him standing there, his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, she shied away a bit.

"You'll still be trained," he said bluntly.

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing she could think of to say. "If I'd known what was wrong I would have… I would have done things differently."

"Whatever."

"W… Whatever?"

"I don't care. I was tired. I had an amusing night. I healed. I'm stronger. It doesn't matter what happened now."

"But still…"

"Bringing the medical staff here was an unnecessary exaggeration," he said, almost angrily. "I'm not weak, woman."

"I wasn't saying that at all. You're very strong. Everyone on the planet knows that. Besides, you were training all day and then you went to train some more. The doctors pretty much said that you were just overworked, right?" She paused. He didn't seem to be lightening up at all. "Well… you're fine now. That's what matters."

His eyes narrowed and his frown turned disgusting as he stared at her. Bulma went back to looking at the floor to avoid eye contact.

"I'm still tired," he finally said. "That annoying woman wouldn't let me sleep."

"Why didn't you just kick her out?"

The prince smirked and Bulma looked back up at him, feeling it was safe to lock eyes now.

"Are you jealous, woman?"

"Of what?" she quickly replied and the prince chuckled.

"You could have stayed," he said, and it took her a moment to realize that he was teasing her. She frowned. "If you didn't want to just watch, I would have allowed you to participate."

She flushed, but regained her composure faster than usual. "With the state you were in, it wouldn't have been fun for me. I really don't think I'm into necrophilia."

The prince raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained.

"I also remember a certain servant woman referring to me without a title."

"Really? You're not going to give me a break for that? I thought you were dying for a second there, you know. I wasn't too concerned with stupid titles."

"Hmm."

"Hmm?" Bulma lifted an annoyed eyebrow.

"State my titles."

"What?"

"Tell me who I am."

"For real…? You're Prince Vegeta, heir to the throne. Happy?"

"Say it again, but add more titles."

Bulma sighed, but he seemed to be entertained, which was much better than him being angry, as usual. "Prince Vegeta, High Lord of the royal castle, first-born son of King Vegeta, and heir to the throne… There. Is your fetish satisfied now?"

"Not quite…," he said in a whisper, pushing himself off the wall and walking over to her. Bulma kept her head held high, but he was looking down at her with a dangerously playful look, and she couldn't tell if she was terrified, or if it was just the butterflies in her stomach. She tried to think of something to say before anything bad happened.

"If I may… Why don't you want the king to know about this?"

"Do you?"

Bulma shook her head slowly, her eyes drawn to the floor as the prince placed one hand on the wall behind her, standing close. More butterflies bubbled up inside her. She had to swallow the saliva in the back of her throat.

"Then why does it matter to you?"

"I was just curious, my Lord. Please forgive me for asking."

"Why are you being so formal all of a sudden? It's not like you."

He was teasing her again. She always spoke to him as the prince. Sure, there were a few times where she slipped up when her emotions got the best of her, but she tried her best to not get herself into too much trouble.

"My Lord, please forgive—"

"Enough. Stop doing that."

"Please forgive—I mean… I'm sorry."

"Do you like using my titles, woman?"

"They… suit you, as prince of the planet—"

"That's not what I asked."

Bulma was beginning to sweat. Why was he standing so close to her?

"Are you trying to make me uncomfortable, sir?" she asked, not sure if it was proper or not, but he ignored the question, either way.

"What was it you called me before?"

"Excuse me?"

"When the whore was still here, right after you two woke me. What did you call me?"

"I… I apologize for that."

"I'm not asking for an apology."

"I…" Bulma was beginning to shake, and it wasn't the butterflies anymore. He was starting to scare her. What if he was planning on punishing her again? What if he was going to send her away? He was making her uncomfortable and he knew it. And he didn't care.

"I didn't mind it," he said quickly, removing his hand and taking a step back. Bulma slowly looked up at him. "Of course, I would mind it if you did it in front of others. Even the whore. You should have known better."

"I'm sorr—"

"But when no one else can hear…" What was he trying to imply?

"I don't want to offend you, my Lord." She didn't know what else to say.

"You mean you're afraid."

Bulma paused. He was right about how she felt for once. "… Yes, sir."

"I'm still your prince, and you will do what I say."

"Of course."

"My first command is to stop standing as if someone is about to stab you in the back."

"E… Excuse me?"

"Don't be so tense, woman."

Bulma looked up at him and then back down. Was he trying to get her in trouble? Was this some kind of a trick to see if she would disobey him? But any response she gave him at this point could result in punishment, so she just continued looking at the floor.

"You've spend the past three years in this room. You shouldn't act this way anymore. Of course, you will act accordingly in the presence of company, but here…" he trailed off. "If it's only me, you will not refer to me with my titles. Do you understand?"

"Why?" Bulma suddenly asked. She knew it was impolite, but if he wanted her to not be as formal…

"Because you called me by my family's name and it's been a while since I've heard it in regards to myself… And I want to hear you say it again."

"I… I don't think that's appropriate."

"Why not?"

"Because… because people use your titles to show respect. And you have them because of your position of nobility on this planet. Without your titles… people may forget who they are speaking to."

"Do you think you'll forget who your speaking to if you don't say "lord"? Do you think you'll respect me less by using only my name?"

"Of course not, my L—" Bulma put her hand over he mouth. "I'm sorry."

"Try again, woman," he smirked, crossing his arms and staring at her. He looked playful again.

"Is this a test?" Bulma frowned. "If I give the wrong answer, are you going to do something to me? I don't want to be a part of a game just because you're bored."

"It's not a test." He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward again. Bulma couldn't stop the blood from rushing to her face as he got closer again. "Who am I?"

"You're Prince Vegeta, heir to the throne—"

"And if I wasn't a prince? Then what would you call me?"

She couldn't stop the gentle blush that fluttered across her cheeks. "V… Vegeta."

He smirked. "Now, was that so hard?"

Bulma just shook her head, keeping her eyes down.

"Remember, woman, not in the presence of others. Only here. Only me." There was a silence that seemed to last eternity, his words hanging in the air like heavy smoke, before he spoke again. "I have a meeting off-world in a few days. You'll be coming with me. I'm going in place of King Vegeta to negotiate the terms of a surrender. You will accompany me to follow at my heels and do your job as you would do it here. Understand?"

She nodded once, although a little surprised by the sudden news of an off-planet trip. The only planets she'd ever been to were her homeworld of Earth, and this awful place. She never thought she'd get to see another planet in her lifetime. But on the other hand, she wasn't very excited to have to be at the prince's beck and call when it was just the two of them and a bunch of strangers. And he'd gone on a number of off-world trips in the past, but she'd never gone with him before. Why was this one any different from the others?

"I asked you a question, servant woman. Respond. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Try again."

Bulma pursed her lips. Why was he bent on this ridiculous notion of not using titles? It was so silly. There was no reason for a servant to refer to royalty as if they were on equal ground. Maybe in a perfect world, or maybe on a different planet, but certainly not here. But he was so set on it, and he was waiting for her answer.

Bulma pursed her lips and took a quiet but deep inhale. When she let it out, she opened her eyes and locked her gaze with his.

"Yes… Vegeta."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

"An off-world trip?"

Chichi looked over a tall pile of aluminum trays at Bulma as she carried them over to her station. She set them down on the countertop and began separating them.

"Yea. He said it's for some kind of surrender negotiations or something. I don't really know what he meant. I'm just surprised because he's never asked me to come with him before. Usually, I'm just stuck back here, cleaning the same room over and over to waste time until he gets back."

"Did he say why he wanted you to come?" Chichi started spraying each tray and lining them up against each other. A few other cooks and assistant chefs walked by and took them from her as she sprayed them in turn. "Maybe they're giving him a room and he wants you to clean it while he in his meetings or something. But still, you're right. That is a little strange." She monotonously sprayed more pans until a man rushed over.

"Miss Chichi, I think we have enough now. You don't have to prepare them all. We aren't baking that many items tonight."

Chichi stared down at the counter as she sprayed yet another pan. Bulma frowned. In another second, she clapped her hands together loudly in front of her friend's face. Chichi barely seemed to notice, but she looked up after a moment.

"What?" she said, a big smile plastered on her face.

"Miss Chichi, let me take those for you. We won't be needing them," the man said, eagerly grabbing the rest of the unused trays and carrying them off. Chichi sighed and Bulma lifted an eyebrow at her friend.

"Are you… feeling okay?"

"Who… me? Oh, yea. I'm fine."

Bulma blinked a few times before clapping her hands together again. Chichi looked up at her, that smile still on her face as she finished the last available tray. A woman walked by and took it for the kitchen staff in the back.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Chichi asked.

"You seem a little out of it, Chi. Are you sure everything's okay?"

Bulma jumped when her gorgeous friend blushed and turned away.

"Everything's great!"

"Why are you…? What's going on?" Bulma finally couldn't help but smirk. "What aren't you telling me, Chi? You're acting like you were just proposed to or something."

"Proposed?! He would _never_!" Chichi laughed, and Bulma gawked, but laughed with her as the sound became contagious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she laughed. What was so funny, anyway? She didn't even know what they were laughing about.

"It's just some _guy_ ," she said happily, waving her hand in the air. She looked like she was about to burst out laughing again from how big her smile was. Bulma was almost in shock. Chichi was always the type to talk about rationality and morals, and those kinds of things. Seeing her get flustered over a boy was… kind of cute. Bulma smiled again, and leaned across the counter.

"Tell me about him," she giggled. She never had these kinds of conversations, either. It was actually really nice, and she was excited to hear more about these things from her usually stoic friend. "He lives in the castle? Oh, does he work in the kitchen? Did he say he likes you?"

"No, no. He was here this morning, but I don't think he lives in the royal palace. He was dressed like a warrior and he looked like he was from the military—"

"Wait," Bulma frowned. " _Military_? He's a _warrior_? You mean… he's _Saiyan_?" Chichi just flushed again. "Chi, you can't…"

"He's not like a Saiyan. Not at all!"

"Chi…"Bulma's face dropped.

"You haven't even met him! He came in here and talked to me! He was really kind! And handsome! He was just looking for something to eat and he was very polite and gentle and…" She trailed off.

"Chi…" Bulma didn't know what to say. "He's a _Saiyan_ …" She tried to hold all of what that implied within that one word.

"Maybe they're not all bad, you know! He was so calm and… he had such kind eyes. He told me his name and everything! He complimented my cooking and he stayed for a little while just to talk to me and…" She trailed off again, but then her face turned into a scowl. "Why did you come here, anyway? To stomp all over me when I finally found a reason to enjoy my time in this stupid castle?!"

"Chi…" She was flushed bright red and Bulma felt like shit.

"Don't "Chi" me, Bulma! I was so happy! Goku is a wonderful person! He came in here and treated me with more respect than you show that god-awful prince of yours! You have no right to just walk in here and judge him because of where he was born! You don't know him!"

Bulma's frown deepened in worry. And she said she just met him this morning? "I just want what's best for you… and Saiyans are… well, you know how they are, Chi..."

"That's great and all, but maybe you should keep your nose out of other people's personal business. I don't doubt you've been getting all lovey-dovey with the prince recently, either. That's the only reason he would have rescinded your punishment or asked you to eat with him or told you to come on this stupid trip with him, you know?! If you want to talk about awful Saiyans, go look at that monster you serve, night and day! He's a murderer and a rapist and no one has the guts to stand up to him, so he just waltzes around doing whatever the hell he wants! I wouldn't be surprised if he'd been the one who killed our parents fifteen years ago! And you know what? Maybe if someone like Goku was king of this awful place, then maybe we'd still be on Earth, with our families, never having to worry if we're going to live another day in this rotten castle. Did you ever think of that? So, next time you want to insult someone behind their backs, maybe you should face forward and look at the people you call "master" and "king"." Immediately, Chichi's face fell and she put her head in her hands. "I'm _sorry_ , okay?! It's just… he's different. Whether you believe me or not, he is. And it's the first time since I've come here that I've actually been excited for tomorrow. Because maybe I'll see him again. Is it really so wrong to have a reason to want to live until tomorrow? Especially in a place like this? You don't have to understand…"

"No, I do understand… I get it." She leaned back. "If he's like you say he is, I'd love to meet him. And I'm not trying to piss you off—"

"I _know_ he's a Saiyan. I know what that means and what that implies, but just talking to him made me realize that maybe not all Saiyans are big, nasty brutes. I agree with you that generally, Saiyans aren't the best company… but Goku is… different. That's all I can say." She looked away and her eyes met the clock on the far wall. "And you'd better hurry. The prince said to be back in half an hour, right? You're going to be late if you don't leave now."

Bulma frowned, but pushed herself off the counter. Chichi was right. About everything… as usual. She had her doubts about this Goku guy, but she hoped from the bottom of her heart that he was exactly how Chichi described him.

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The trip had been a short one, thanks to the ever-surprising technology from King Cold and his people. Bulma knew that the Colds were a powerful species, but the Saiyans had allowed them to keep their planet after the final raid about a year ago. In exchange, the king of Planet Cold promised to provide King Vegeta and the Saiyans with all of their high-tech and up-to-date technologies. One of which was the healing tanks in the medical wing on the palace. Another, that Bulma just discovered, was the use of high-speed space travel technology. She wasn't well versed in machinery, but she understood the basics. It was just a part of the travel pod that made the ride smoother and faster than ever before. And as a result, the trip was over in a third of the expected time. The prince seemed to be pleased as they landed on the planet, especially after Bulma had taken a stern yelling after being late for departure.

She found herself getting weird stares from the other people on the pod during the ride. There were no other Saiyans, but a few of the red-faced warriors were on standby and some green skinned men manned the monitors at the helm. They all looked at her like she was an uninvited guest.

As the door opened and steam rushed in, Bulma gasped. Her feet gently lifted off the ground as she began to float. She yelped, reaching around for something to grab onto, but she heard an annoyed grumble and the prince grabbed her arm and wrenched her back down to the floor. He leaned over her and placed his hand on the back of her neck. She could feel his slow breath in her hair for a moment.

"What… are you…?"

"Shut up," he growled, and she heard a tick from her gravity collar before she was back on solid ground, her feet planted on the metal floor of the space pod again. Vegeta turned around and headed for the door. She blinked a few times and followed after him. Why did her heart beat harder whenever he got close to her? She didn't think she was that afraid of him…

Bulma stepped out onto dirt and sand, and shuffled around a bit before looking up at her surroundings. The sun was high in the sky, but the lighting was that of sunset on Planet Vegeta. There was no wind, and no grass. Or anything green, for that matter. She looked around the pod and realized that they had landed in the middle of an enormous colosseum. There were people in the stands. Or… what she assumed was the inhabitants of the planet. She couldn't quite see from so far away, but their skin was a sun-kissed tan, and they were all thin as a twig and at the least, over six feet high. The majority of them were wearing brown cloaks, which made all the people blend into one big blob from far away. But there was no cheering. Everyone was silent and staring. Bulma didn't like standing out here. She felt exposed and vulnerable.

"Let's get this nonsense over with," Vegeta mumbled, and Bulma snapped back into attention, following close behind the prince as he headed for an archway across the colosseum. Two of the red-faced warriors and one of the green-skinned followed behind her. One carried hers and the prince's luggage—only one small pack each.

Prince Vegeta was wearing his Saiyan training armor over tight blue training clothes. He wore a long red and gold-embroidered cape over his shoulders, and Bulma had to admit that he wore it quite well. She couldn't help but notice that he looked like a king as she walked behind him. His manner was tough and proud, and he walked with an aura of dignity and strength surrounding him. Bulma couldn't help but admire him in that moment. Back at the castle, he was a spoiled prince who never cleaned up after himself. But here… he was the prince of a warrior planet, come to negotiate terms of a surrender. She didn't doubt that the Saiyans had done awful things to the people here, but he was prepared to exchange words with them, not to fight, and hopefully they would come to some kind of a peaceful solution that suited both their needs. Bulma had to admire him for that. And for a second, she caught herself thinking that he was going to make a fine king.

As soon as the thought started, she frowned at herself. What was she thinking? He was going to rule just like his father ruled their horrible planet… But was he really that much like his father…? The King Vegeta was ruthless and cruel. He had no mercy and he was quick to punish. If she had been a chambermaid to the current king, she would have been dead a long time ago for sure…

"Prince Vegeta."

A man came into view as they passed under the stone archway, bowing to their party. He was like the others—at least six feet tall and as thin as could be. Bulma stared when she realized that his eyes were all black. He swooshed his long, brown attire out of the way as it dragged along the ground and then bowed even lower. "It is an honor to have you come in the king's stead."

"Show me to my room," Vegeta commanded, not even looking at the man.

"Right away, your Highness." The man took an even lower bow before standing back up and leading the way. Bulma followed Vegeta as they weaved in and out of halls. If she ever got separated from the rest of these people, she was sure to get lost. Only dim candlelight lit the stone and sand halls here and she wondered if they were underground. She never felt a decline in the flooring beneath her feet.

"The meetings should only take a couple of days, but you're welcome to stay as long as you wish, of course," the man said, bowing again as the came to an ornately decorated door. It was not so much a different design as the others, as it was simply decorated with ornaments around and over it. Bulma noticed green leaves in a wreath hung on the front. It was the first green she'd seen on this planet so far.

The man opened the door and bowed as Vegeta stepped inside. Bulma thought he was going to keep going and nearly bumped into his back in the doorway. She tried looking around him to see what the room was like, but she couldn't see much. The floors were dirt and sand, and the walls were stone and had more than enough water marks covering them. She hoped the prince wouldn't get angry and take it out on anyone.

"Find my men rooms of their own," Vegeta ordered.

"Right away, your Highness. When you are comfortable, just open your door and ring the bell we've placed on the table there. Someone will come and escort you to the meeting hall." He paused, and then looked at Bulma. "Shall I escort your mistress to a room of her own as well, or will she be staying with you, sire?"

" _Mistress_?!" Bulma blurted out, without thinking. And immediately, she cupped both hands over her mouth. Her eyes darted to the prince, who was glaring at her. He turned his eyes back to the bowing man until he shied away in uneasiness.

And then everyone else was gone, down the hall, into the dimly lit caverns until they made a turn and Bulma couldn't see them anymore. She turned back and looked around, now that Vegeta was inside the room.

"You will not speak in front of others while you're here. If you are alone and someone tried to speak with you, ignore them and walk away," he said, spitting onto the table in the center of the room. Bulma noticed the bell. It was gold in color, and she wondered if the metal was as real as it looked. Everything here seemed to be made of either rocks or sand. "And close that door, woman!" Bulma jumped and gently shut the door behind her. She couldn't help but ask something that had been on her mind since a few days prior.

"Why… why am I even here?" She lowered her head, expecting him to be angry with her for asking.

"Because this planet is filthy, and if I'm staying overnight, then it's your responsibility to make sure that this room is spotless by the time the first meeting is over. My father told me about how disgusting this planet was. They have no hygiene. It's why the whole place reeks of filth."

Bulma frowned. She didn't smell anything. "But… everything is made of dirt and sand… I can't use a wet rag or it'll make mud. And if I try to dust, sand will just get everywhere. And the bed…" She looked around until she saw it on the right. "It's just a flat rock with cloth for cushioning. There isn't much I can do to make this feel like your room back at the castle. I'm sure it was the best they could do…"

"Where's the tub? And the shower?" Vegeta was royally pissed, as expected. There was no sign of anything resembling a bathroom in this cramped space. Bulma wondered if this was really the best they could have offered to him. Surely, after being at war with the Saiyans, they knew not to piss them off. Especially the royal family, right?

"If you like, I can go ask to see if they have any better rooms for you to stay in."

"No. I said you're not allowed to speak to anyone here. Don't disobey me."

"Of course, my L—" Bulma cut herself off. She'd been working on referring to the prince by only his name, but it was still taking some effort. It helped her to remember when he got mad whenever she forgot, at the very least. "Sorry." She looked away. It was still so unnatural to call him by his family name. She would rather be surrounded by total strangers, just so that it would be okay to call him "lord" or "sir". It would have been easier for her.

"We have two days here. Try not to be too much of an inconvenience in that short time. I'm only here to get what I want out of this planet and her people and go home."

"And what would that be? This planet seems barren. What could you possibly ask of them?" Bulma didn't doubt that the Saiyans ravaged the lands already, and destroyed half the population. She couldn't help but feel bad for any planets or people that the Saiyans attacked, and she suddenly wished that she wasn't here to be a part of this tragedy. Whatever Vegeta asked of these people, it was going to be unreasonable. She just knew it.

"Since when are you into politics, woman?"

"Since now. What are you going to ask of these people?"

"We've already won. There is no "asking." I'm going to make demands and they will listen to them and oblige. The conditions of their surrender were absolute. They have no authority to defy me. I am here as a representative of their new king, my father, and I will inform these disgusting people of what's to be done with them and their planet. And once I'm finished, they will do exactly as I say."

"That's awful…" Bulma whispered without thinking. But she couldn't help but be reminded of her own world. Although she barely remembered it, she wondered if it had gone exactly like this. Had the king just shown up one day after her people's surrender to take them and destroy the planet? Is that what Vegeta had in store for this planet, too? "Are you going to… destroy it?"

"Why does that matter to you?" he glowered. Bulma stood her ground and he just rolled his eyes at her persistence. "My father has given me full authority to do as I please with these people. As for the planet, only half of it can produce crops, so it might not be worth trying to sell for a high price. The people will most likely be forced into slave labor on my planet, or sold to traders for slave work on other planets. If some of them came with the planet, it would sell easier, as well. The inhabitants here are strong and sturdy, despite the way they look. They put up a good fight when we invaded. Futile, but good. They'll go for a good price."

"If you're allowed to do whatever you want… Why can't you just let them go?" Bulma whispered to the floor, knowing that her request was ridiculous. But the prince just tilted his head.

"You think their fate would be any different if I let them roam free? Someone else would pick them up and sell them into servitude somewhere else."

"They can always stay here…"

"The planet needs to be sold. It's inhabitable by even _your_ weak species, so that means that almost anyone can live here. Planet Vegeta makes its money through planet dealing. We're not going to change our ways because one Earthling female is getting sentimental all of a sudden."

"You honestly don't see anything wrong with doing this to innocent people?"

" _Innocent_? And where did you come up with that word? And why do you think it fits these people without even a basic knowledge of their history?"

"Are you saying they're not?"

"I'm saying that not every planet is Earth, woman. If we were just a bunch of brainless planet-destroyers, then someone would have stopped us by now. What we do is a business. It keeps our planet alive and relevant, and it keeps trade flowing throughout the worlds. Just because your feeble mind is clouded with thoughts of _equality_ and _sympathy_ doesn't mean the universe actually works that way."

"If you're trying to convince me that taking this planet from these people is necessary to your survival, it's not working. And it never will."

"I guess it's a good thing the world isn't based on what you think, then. Otherwise we'd all be dead or suffering. This way, at least the strongest and most capable stay afloat."

"At the cost of others." Bulma narrowed her eyes. She couldn't help but think that she was talking about herself and her dead planet, rather than these people.

"Of course."

"Well, that's not right. And if you think it is, then I feel sorry for you."

"Watch your tongue, servant woman," he warned.

"Why? Because I disagree with you? Or because you think I'm right?"

"Because you're stepping out of line. Don't forget who you're speaking to. I'm not a commoner, and you certainly aren't on equal grounds to me. I allow you the _privilege_ to be less formal in private, but not insolent. Continue down this path if you're looking to be punished."

Bulma frowned. He had successfully changed the flow of the conversation, and she couldn't tell if it was on purpose or not. He seemed to be stuck in his own beliefs, but on the other hand, so was she. And he was right about her not knowing the history of this world. To be honest, she didn't know a single thing about it. She didn't even know what it was called, and she was standing on it…

Vegeta stood and grabbed the bell off the table with obvious impatience. He opened the door and rang the bell a little too hard. Bulma was surprised he didn't end up breaking it. She froze when he turned back to her. "Do what you can for this filthy room and I'll be back in a few hours. These people shouldn't have much to say, so I'll just be going over my terms and coming straight back. Don't leave the room, either. Understand?"

Bulma nodded, and he handed her the bell before closing the door behind him.

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He'd been gone for over three hours now, and Bulma was awaiting his arrival. As she assumed before, there wasn't much she could do to the room to make it more suitable for the temperamental prince. She'd made sure there was no sand or dust on top of any of the furniture, and the cloths on the rock-bed were clean and dirt-free. But the floor was still sand and dirt, and there was little she could do when each step she took created a small dust cloud.

Her throat hurt a little from coughing so much over the past three hours of preparing the room, so she decided to open the door to maybe let in some fresh air. She felt like she was going to suffocate in the small, confined space.

But just as she opened it, a tall man in one of those brown cloaks passed by. She froze when he paused and his all-black eyes stared at hers. But her fear got the best of her, as he simply bowed and walked off down the dimly lit hall.

Bulma let out a breath and stepped out of the room. The air wasn't much better, even out of the room. She wondered how far a walk it was to step outside and get a few minutes of fresh air. It didn't seem like a far walk when she came down here, so it must not be more than a couple minutes to get out. And she knew that she'd come from the right, so that's the way she would go to head out. She gently closed the stone door behind her and made her way down the hallway, following the small candles on the walls for light.

"What did I tell you?" a voice grumbled, and Bulma spun around, coming face-to-face with the prince, glaring down at her. She frowned at him for scaring her. He looked tired…

"I can't breathe down here anymore."

"I told you not to leave the room."

"Did you?"

He narrowed his eyes and Bulma took a slow step backwards. She wished she hadn't, but he was intimidating her on purpose now and she couldn't help it. Either way, she stood her ground. She'd been cooped up in that dusty old room for too long. But then he grumbled something under his breath before crossing his arms and looking away from her. Bulma blinked a few times, confused at his reaction. He sighed and started walking past her. She watched him go, feet planted firmly to the ground. And when he turned back to face her, he was still annoyed, but there was something else underneath that… Something almost… charming? Bulma figured she must really need to step outside if that's where her thoughts were going.

"I could use some fresh air after talking to all those disgusting creatures. Are you coming or not?" he said, and there it was again. He wasn't just annoyed. There was something else, and it made her uncomfortable just watching him. He snarled a bit before whipping back around and storming down the hall. Bulma had to smile as she ran to catch up to him.

The prince was being kind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven:**

It had been several days since the off-world trip, and surprisingly there were a number of people talking about it. Bulma overheard a few of the stationed guards around the castle talking about new people coming to Planet Vegeta, and what spaces they were intended to fill. She hadn't heard much else besides that, but she was eager to learn more. Hopefully the majority of those poor people would just be allowed to live on this planet, instead of being sold to others for free labor. She was especially curious now about what the prince had demanded of them. She thought for sure that he would just destroy the planet and enslave the people. Maybe that would still happen, but she couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen.

But in the meantime, she had a much more pressing issue to worry about in the kitchens. Chichi was rapidly preparing several meals at once. The first was obviously for Vegeta, since the prince didn't appreciate his meals a minute past when he asked for them. The second was for the entirety of the guards of the throne room. Apparently, there was some special occasion, and an entire five course meal was necessary. And the last preparation was for Goku… Chichi asked Bulma to meet him in person, so she was preparing him lunch for when he came by.

"Are you sure this is really a good idea, Chi?" Bulma asked skeptically. "I mean, first of all, I can only stay to say hello. Then I have to rush back to Vegeta."

"Ooh, you're on a first-name basis now?" she asked, slightly joking and slightly aggravated. "Now you _really_ can't judge me for liking Goku. Saiyan or not, he's a good guy. And you're here today so I can prove it to you." She smiled as she whisked some mixture in a large metal bowl.

"Sorry… I'm actually not supposed to call him that out in public."

"Just when you two are alone together?" Chichi smirked. Bulma flushed. "Seriously, Bulma. What's going on between you and the prince? There's got to be more than what you've been telling me."

"I really don't think it's that big of a deal. He just teases me, is all. I'm nothing more to him than a way to kill time. Maybe he thinks I'm a challenge because I don't always do what he says. Either way, I know my place. Sure I can talk to him now and everything, but one wrong word, or if he doesn't like my tone one day, then suddenly it's back to being punished or thrown into some military camp."

"To be honest, Bulma, I get the feeling he wouldn't actually do that to you."

"Well, think again, because last time he already had all the preparations made for my torture and everything. If I hadn't gone to his room, I would've woken up the next morning to stone walls and whatever punishment he had in store for me."

"Yea… but… you didn't get punished in the end, and you slept in his room… with him."

"It's not like we did anything, Chi. I mean, that one time he tried, but nothing happened."

"So, he respects you enough to not touch you?"

Bulma almost burst out laughing. "Yea, right. That's definitely not it."

"Has he tried to kiss you?"

A woman slammed her fist on the counter behind Chichi and she jumped. Bulma tilted her head and looked around her friend. A purple-skinned woman with a long pink ponytail stood staring at the two of them, a wide smirk spread across her face.

"Are you talking about the prince?" she asked slowly, sliding along the counter. Bulma was about the shake her head to avoid talking to the weird woman, but Chichi nodded and she mentally rolled her eyes at her gossip-loving friend.

"Here we go," Chichi mumbled under her breath, "The kitchen's drama queen."

"Well, you're first mistake…" She slid further, coming to stand right next to Chichi. "The prince doesn't kiss."

"Just because he's never kissed _you_ doesn't mean he doesn't do it at all," Bulma said flatly, and Chichi smirked at her.

"You see, that's what I mean!" she burst out. "You like him. Just admit it."

"I don't like him, Chichi! That's disgusting. He's a horrible person…"

Chichi rolled her eyes and turned back to the purple woman. "How would you know something like that anyway? It could just be gossip, you know. You work in the kitchens all day."

"I've actually been allowed to switch jobs. I've been training at night to be able to please the Saiyans in this palace, and of course, the prince is a very important person to learn _all_ about."

"You requested a job change so you could be a _prostitute_?" Chichi burst out, and Bulma elbowed her in the side.

"Yea, well… It's better than slaving away in here over hot stoves and getting flour in my hair all day long. If I'm going to have a life here, then at least I'll be able to say that I slept with a prince." She shrugged and smiled. "And since I overheard you two talking about the hottest Saiyan around, I figured I'd listen to your conversation a little. I hope you don't mind, but I just _had_ to pipe in. And it's basically the first thing they taught me. Prince Vegeta doesn't like to kiss girls. Ever. There's not a single girl I've worked with so far who can say they've ever made out with him… And like, not even a peck. Nothing. It's really weird… But there's a rumor that says that if you _can_ kiss him and get away with it, then you're one of his _favorites_." She started giggling and hugging herself. "I hope I can land a kiss on him. Wouldn't that be amazing?"

"Hmm," Chichi said, turning to Bulma with a smirk. "Yea… that would be something."

" _What_?" Bulma snapped. It was the first she'd heard of all this, but when she thought about it, she'd never actually seen him kiss anyone. It was weird, but maybe this woman was right… All the accidental peeks she'd gotten of the prince's naked backside were all when he was just… fucking. When she really tried, she couldn't actually remember a time she saw him kissing anyone.

"Maybe it takes someone _really_ special to kiss the prince," Chichi added, running the moment into the ground. Bulma elbowed her again. "Maybe you should give it a try, Bulma?"

"Oh, I wouldn't if I were you," the woman said, twirling her fingers around each other. She smirked when she held Chichi and Bulma's attention again. "Turns out… all the women who've tried to kiss him…" She paused for effect. "Ended up _dead_."

"Oh, _please_ ," Chichi laughed. "The one person in this castle that would probably fuck a lamp if he was bored enough doesn't want to _kiss_?" Bulma was about to open her mouth, but then wondered why and stayed silent. Why would she want to defend him, anyway? It's not like Chichi was wrong…

"No, really. I'm serious," the woman said, widening her eyes. "That was what they told me. First rule is to never, ever, _ever_ try and kiss him. Unless you want to end up dead. The trick is if he kisses you first. That's what we all hope for, but I wouldn't dare try to start it."

Chichi laughed again. "They probably made that stupid rumor up so you'd look like an idiot in bed with him. The only whore in the castle who's afraid to kiss the prince."

The girl frowned. "Well, at least I no longer have to look like some stupid kitchen slave with no future and a terrible sense of humor."

"You got me there," Chichi laughed again. Bulma rolled her eyes at both of them.

"Ugh! I'm pretty sure the reason I want to leave these stupid kitchens is because of you anyway, so good riddance! I hope I never have to see you again, you stupid, black-haired… _ugh_!"

"Nice to see your insults are as intelligent as ever."

"I'm heading home early! Good luck finishing everything without me!" And then she stormed off, patting the flour dust out of her hair as she went. The doors slammed behind her and Chichi just rolled her eyes.

"Well, that was… weird."

"She's always been like that."

"Like what? Slimy and creepy?"

"Just… weird. All the time."

"I hope you're not talking about me," a new voice said, and Bulma turned when Chichi's face suddenly lit up like a lightbulb.

" _Goku_!" she yelped, turning and running over to him. She held her arms out and Bulma froze when the large man just smiled, laughed and picked her up off the ground like she weighed nothing. This man was a Saiyan?

When he put her down, Bulma watched as Chichi went from cloud nine, to flustered. Her face turned pink and she started playing with her hair, pushing it behind her ears and twirling her ponytail, around and around. She swayed back and forth a little before opening her mouth. When she spoke, she looked at the ground.

"I… I knew you were coming, so I made you lunch," she said sheepishly, and Bulma almost giggled. She'd never seen her friend act this way before. Chichi hurried over to the heated shelves and pulled out two large plates, full of all different snacks, but mostly meat. "I hope you like it."

"Oh, wow!" Goku exclaimed, his friendly smile getting even wider. "Chichi, that looks amazing!"

"Oh, and this is Bulma," she said quickly, motioning to me. I was still a little dazed from watching a Saiyan act this way… friendly. It was strange, to say the least. "She's my best friend in the whole world."

"Hey, I've seen you before," he said, still smiling. "You help Vegeta, right?"

"Uh… yea." He called him by his first name like it was nothing… Saiyans didn't do that, either. This man was just full of surprises.

"Oh! My gosh! Bulma! The _prince_! He said to be back in fifteen minutes! You're _so_ late!" She ran around the counter and grabbed a cart, throwing everything onto it and rolling it through the doors. "Go!" she exclaimed, and Bulma nodded, taking the cart and rushing out the doors.

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Goku seemed like a nice guy… Considering she'd only known him for about five seconds, that was all she could say. She was expecting him to act much differently, at least. Something like a big brute coming in with a swagger, thinking he was tough and deserved everything he wanted. But instead, Goku was friendly and happy and… even a little shy. It was like he wasn't a Saiyan at all. He hadn't come in his armor, so maybe he had the day off? It was just so weird and she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Late, again," a familiar voice grumbled and Bulma looked up to find the prince opening his chamber doors for her to push the cart through. "I don't know why I even give you a time limit if you're not going to listen to me."

"Well, the point of having a time limit is that there might be some repercussions if I don't make it," Bulma replied slyly, wondering if she as digging herself a hole.

"Is that what you want?" the prince smirked, and she was just happy he wasn't in a foul mood.

"You can come punish _me_ , your Highness," a squeaky voice called from his bed, and Bulma jumped. She noticed that the entire time, Vegeta just stared at her with an annoying smirk. She frowned and began setting the table.

"Set up an extra plate, servant woman," he ordered. Bulma just nodded and got back to work. "And you," he said, motioning to the woman on his bed. "Come here."

The woman stood, thankfully wearing panties and a bra, and swayed as she walked over to the prince. "What can I do for you, My Lord?" she asked, and her voice sounded very seductive. Bulma sometimes wished she could be that good as seducing men, but she knew that this woman probably had years of training, and that seemed more like a waste of time to Bulma.

"There, all set," Bulma said quickly, "Milady, your seat is ready."

"That's not for her," Vegeta said quickly. "It's for you. Sit. Eat." He then looked up at the woman, still standing there, and motioned for her to get down on her knees under the table. She smirked as if she knew exactly what he wanted. Vegeta looked back to Bulma and pointed at the extra plate she'd set up. "I said _eat_." He smirked, as if there was some other meaning behind his words. Bulma frowned, but pulled out the chair and sat at the table. She lifted up her fork and stabbed a slice of tomato.

"Ahh…" the prince sighed quietly, and Bulma jumped, looking up at him, her mouth half open and the fork three inches from her lips. He was staring at her, and she suddenly understood what he was doing. This was all just some game to make her uncomfortable. That half-naked woman was under the table, and she was begin forced to sit here and eat. And watch… Bulma narrowed her eyes.

"Really?" she asked, throwing down her fork and standing with a huff. "You really have nothing better to do with yourself right now?"

He grunted again as his eyes lidded and he let out a slow breath. "Use your teeth again and I'll kill you," he whispered, reaching a hand down under the table. A few seconds later, he jumped, making a louder noise, and Bulma forced herself to look away, hoping her warm face wasn't turning a darker color. She heard the woman giggle under the table and huffed again, turning for the door.

"Woman, prepare me a bath," Vegeta barked, and she froze, back to him. For a moment she considered leaving and coming back later, but she composed herself in a slow breath. This was just the same as if he had a woman in his bed. She'd cleaned this place up a thousand times while he was fucking some whore in the other room. And this was no different, she convinced herself. She took another quick breath and turned.

"Of course, My Lord," she said, bowing slightly and heading for the garderobe. She grabbed three towels and a change of clothes from the prince's dresser and prepared the bath at an extremely slow pace, hoping that whatever nonsense he was up to would be out of his system by the time she finished here.

It must have been at least ten minutes, so she stood after making sure the water was hot, and walked out into the main room.

" _Ah_! Oh, _god_!" she heard the woman cry out, and Bulma couldn't help but glance into the bedroom directly across from her, double doors swung wide open, the prince's naked back thrusting up and down with speed and force that only a Saiyan could achieve. She pursed her lips, but didn't look away fast enough. In the next second, Vegeta was in front of her and Bulma yelped. "No! Please! Don't leave! Don't stop!" the woman cried from the other room, but Bulma felt like she was in a trance. The prince was staring down at her, barely an inch away, naked, face covered in sweat, panting like an animal, mouth open as he watched her, slowly rolling his eyes over her face, never looking anywhere else. And Bulma was frozen, but only for a split second, because he grabbed her and threw her onto his bed in the next second, beside the now-naked woman.

"No…" Bulma said, but it barely came out as a whisper. "Please, don't do this."

But he never touched her. He went back to the whore, who went back to screaming in pleasure as he fucked her hard and fast. Bulma managed to squeeze her eyes shut, but there was nothing she could do about the sounds all around her. And it wasn't just the woman… Vegeta was also making sounds. They were quieter and less noticeable, but she found her brain picking up each and every one of them. Some of them even made her breath a little heavier.

The woman finished in an explosion of unnecessary sounds and effects and Bulma assumed the prince finished soon after.

"Get out." Bulma immediately opened her eyes, but she instantly wished she hadn't. The woman was panting, on her knees over the prince, clearly begging for more. She saw the streams of clear goo all over the woman's body and immediately squeezed her eyes shut again. "Don't make me repeat myself," Vegeta growled, and Bulma opened one eye just in time to see him grab the woman's arm and throw her off the bed. She hit the wall with a noise that made Bulma flinch, but the woman stood up and left in a hurry, whether she was in pain or not.

Bulma was expecting a long, awkward moment of silence before she could figure out how to react, but instead, the prince flipped over, keeping one thin layer of sheets between them, and grabbed her, pulling her way too close for comfort. She froze again, and the silence was broken by his light panting. She just remained as still as she could until his breathing leveled out and she assumed he was asleep. But even then, she couldn't move. He was holding her too tight for her to do anything other than breath.

And it smelled awfully like sex. She knew there was no way she was lying in a clean part of the bed. She doubted any part of this bed was clean right now. And she was surrounded by those smells and a sweaty body, but at least the prince smelled nicer than the rest of the room. In fact, he smelled… good. She quietly inhaled where her face met his bare chest and almost smiled. Thankfully, she caught herself. But if she was going to have to stay here for a while without waking him, she might as well try to relax…

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Bulma woke to the sound of rattling dishes, but when she almost jumped up out of bed, she realized that she was still being held. She looked around, slowly realizing that the sounds were from her dream, which was now slowly slipping away. She tried her best to remember it, but by that time, it was already gone. She tensed and untensed her legs. She needed to stretch, but the familiar smell right next to her nose reminded her that the prince was still asleep beside her.

She knew she couldn't have been out for more than an hour or two. It was the middle of the day, after all. But her body ached and she needed to move. She tried wiggling out of his grasp, but it was no use.

"V… Vegeta?" she whispered, straining a bit when she felt her spine almost crack. When it didn't, she winced, wishing it had. "Hey," she said, trying to push on him a bit, "Prince Vegeta…" Bulma groaned when he didn't budge, rolling her eyes. But the more awake she became, the more she remembered about last night… He'd thrown her on the bed and made her lay there while he fucked that whore… And earlier her tried to make her watch when that woman was under the table… What a sick, twisted—

Vegeta rolled over, and Bulma yelped when he took her with him, flipping her over onto his stomach as he landed on his back. His grip was looser now, and Bulma squirmed, managing to worm her way out of his arms. But now she was on top of him, and for a moment she wondered how she was going to get up without waking him. But then she frowned. What did he do to deserve her consideration, anyway? She huffed and rolled over, hitting him with her elbow on her way down. He grunted and flinched as she crawled to the end of the bed and placed her feet down on the floor. She sighed and stood, but in the next moment, he was behind her. She was getting so frustrated at herself every time she jumped.

"God!" she shouted. "Stop doing that!"

He ignored her and grabbed her arm, dragging her to the wall behind him and pushing her up against it, his arms on either side of her. His eyes were half closed in his half-awake condition, but he still smirked and pushed himself into her.

"Vegeta—"

Bulma jumped when she felt it…

"G… Get away from me," she warned. "Now."

"You're not the one who gets to give orders, woman," he said, still smirking.

"You think you're funny, right?" she growled, not daring to meet his eyes. "With those things you did?" He was trying to get to her. He wanted to watch her have some kind of reaction; that had to be it. She wouldn't let him win.

"Funny?" he asked. "I wouldn't say that, no." He pushed himself harder into her and Bulma had to stop herself from exhaling any louder. She'd seen him a thousand times before, but never felt him… not like this, at least. And she wasn't about to let her mind wander to thoughts she shouldn't be having, especially since he still wasn't wearing any clothes.

He moved his head past hers, leaning his forehead against the wall beside her, leaving her barely any space to move again. Then, slowly, he pushed his stomach flatter against hers. She felt him again and jumped.

"St-Stop!" Bulma shouted, squirming, but his arms pinned her on either side, and she wasn't sure which would be easier to escape through—Vegeta or the wall behind her. "Please," she begged. "Please, just… leave me alone."

He moved his hips back a little, and she thought he was finally letting her go, but instead he pushed himself slowly back into her. And then he did it again. And again. And he didn't stop. Bulma squirmed uncomfortably for about five minutes before her frustration started to take over.

"Vegeta, _stop_!" she shouted, digging her fingernails into his one arm. She couldn't draw blood this time and momentarily wondered why. "Get the hell off me!" She moved her hips forward and slammed into him, trying to push him away, but she heard him chuckle and he grabbed her one arm, holding it above her head. "I said that's enough! Get away!" she screamed, but he went right back to doing it. "What do you _want_ from me?!" She reached down with her only free hand and pushed against his stomach, trying to give herself a moment without feeling him, but he just pushed back, right past her unnoticeable strength, and shoved himself into her one more time, harder than before. Bulma screamed again, and before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed him in her hand and squeezed.

Vegeta stopped moving and she heard him let out a long breath.

"There you go," he said, and she could've swore his entire body loosened up a little. Each of his muscles untightened and he relaxed a bit, putting more of his upper body weight on her. Bulma exhaled when she felt his weight on her and he stopped moving.

"W… What?" Bulma stammered, but she didn't let him go.

"Go ahead," he whispered, moving his arms off the wall. One wrapped around her waist, but didn't pull her forward. The other steadied the back of her neck, the tips of his fingers slowly dancing along her scalp. His face stayed past hers, so his breathing was right in her ear.

A few noises came out of Bulma's mouth, but they were the inaudible beginnings of unknown words. She didn't want this. She never wanted this. Not with the prince. But she couldn't deny that he was attractive, and she'd spent the last couple hours getting turned on and frustrated. And god, he still smelled so good. She hated herself for it, but she was still human, and there were some things she couldn't control.

"Can't you… just go get one of your whores to do this?" she whispered.

"I could," he breathed into her ear, making her shudder. What was she doing? Why was she giving into this? Why couldn't she stop?

"They'd… probably do a better job than me, anyway…"

"Probably."

He nuzzled his face into her hair and breathed. Bulma closed her eyes and moved her hand in one awkward stroke, feeling him. She had no idea what she was doing, but the prince quickly exhaled and squeezed her a little tighter. And in that moment, she knew for a fact that he really wanted her to do this. For a split second, she knew for sure that this wasn't a game to him anymore, and on one hand, that was captivating… But for the most part, it scared the hell out of her. And she knew she wouldn't be able to do this.

She quickly released him and tried to shove him off again. He jolted, as if woken from a deep sleep, and growled.

"Get off me…" Bulma whispered, almost sadly. She lowered her head, staring at the floor, but he was already off of her and in the other room.

"Clean this mess up!" he shouted, pointing at the table. "And if you're ever late with my meals again, I'll have you tortured for a week!"

And she lowered her gaze again, listening to him rattle dresser drawers for a good thirty seconds before slamming the door on his way out.

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	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight:**

"You're kidding."

Launch shrugged. "To be honest, I'm going to enjoy the silence around here," she joked. Maron threw her a glare.

"It wasn't even my choice. I was just told to swap jobs because some girl decided that she didn't want to work in the kitchens anymore. How unfair is that?"

"Apparently, Chichi is happy about the change. And I talked to the girl only once and I could barely stand the sound of her voice, if I'm being honest," Bulma said flatly. "Plus, I'm sure Chichi would love to have you around. She doesn't really talk to anyone because she works alone, or at least with people that aren't much for conversation." She turned back to Launch. "But I am sorry. I know this job is hard, even for two of you. Maybe they'll put someone new in here, too."

"I'm not getting my hopes up," Launch pouted.

"Listen, Bulma," Maron said with a frown, "I know that black-haired girl in the kitchen is your friend, but I don't think we're going to get along very well. She's just so… bland. I've tried getting along with her, but she's not... interesting. And I'm not trying to be mean, but it's the truth."

Bulma just sighed. She felt more bad for Chichi than Maron. Out with one drama queen, and in with another… Although, Maron could get a little snotty when she didn't get what she wanted. Hopefully everything would work out okay…

"Bulma, if you ever have free time, I would really appreciate some help with the laundry now that I'm on my own," Launch said, and Bulma nodded at her friend.

"I'll try."

"No, you won't," Maron snorted. "Any free time you have is probably going to be spent with the prince… in his _bed_."

Bulma flushed. "Wha… What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Bulma Briefs. I had to go down to the kitchens earlier for a tour and I saw Chichi. That silly chatterbox wouldn't shut up about her new Saiyan boy-toy… Or how you've been sleeping in the prince's bed recently. All I have to do is pretend to like her and she just won't keep her mouth shut. It's a curse and blessing for me, really."

Bulma still flushed, but she was glad Chichi didn't tell Maron about what had happened a few nights ago. But still, she wasn't expecting Maron to be such a gossiper.

"You know, I'm your friend, too. Would it kill you to be a little sympathetic?" she asked slowly.

"Sympathetic?" Maron gawked. "I don't think sympathy is the right reaction if your friend is going at it with the prince of this planet. I would say I'm a little jealous, but I'm happy for you." She paused. "But if you're my friend, too, would it kill you to tell me what's going on every once in a while? It kind of sucks that I had to get the story from Chichi, don't you think?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "I haven't even seen you since last week. And the prince and I are not 'going at it.' And yes, I would actually like a little sympathy, to be honest. He's been forcing me to…" She trailed off. "He's been being especially cruel, and it's really not something to be jealous over."

"Chichi says you like him," she smirked.

"Well, Chichi is wrong. And she should really know when not to say certain things, but I guess I'll just have to talk to her about it next time I see her." She crossed her arms. Maron was probably the worst person for Chichi to have to talk to now, considering that was her go-to friend for advice. Was Maron going to be in the kitchens all the time now? Would she be there to listen to every story? God, she hoped not.

"Here you go," Launch said, suddenly handing Bulma the usual pile of red and white sheets for the prince's bed. "Don't be late," she smirked, and Bulma's eyes went wide. She wasted too much time here already. Why did this always happen?

"Sorry, gotta run," she said, taking the sheets and racing out the door.

Her run turned into a light jog once she neared the prince's chambers and she calmed her breath. She took out her keys and opened the door with one hand, balancing the neatly-folded sheets in the other. She peered inside and heard the prince running water in the bathroom. She quickly shut the door behind her and jogged up the step to his bed. She finished putting the sheets on the bed in a couple minutes and flattened everything out. When she turned, the prince was standing near the table in the center of the main room, shirtless, wiping his hands with a towel and staring right at her.

"Is there anything else I can do for you today, sir?" she asked quickly, not looking directly at him. At some point after their last incident, she'd gone back to referring to him with the usual formalities, even in private. And to her surprise, he never corrected her about it. He hadn't made her sleep in his room the past couple of nights, either. And Bulma was hoping that meant that their relationship was back to normal. All she wanted was to be ignored, anyway.

A knock came from the door and Bulma hoped that the prince would just let her go for the day. She walked down the step and opened the door. He was still drying his hands with that towel.

"Prince Vegeta," a soldier quickly said. "The king has ordered me to tell you that there will be a meeting held in the throne room shortly, and you are welcome to attend."

"A meeting for what?" the prince scowled.

"Entertainment, my Lord. The king has ordered for an Earthling mating."

Bulma's eyes went wide and her legs went so weak that she almost collapsed in front of the soldier. She hardly noticed when Vegeta was standing between her and the Saiyan man at the door.

"And which female has my father chosen?" he asked slowly.

"Some wench from the kitchens," the soldier replied, and Bulma's body control instantly came back to her.

"What?" she said, staring at the soldier. "Who? Who is it?"

"Shut up," he smirked, but Vegeta grabbed the man by his throat and lifted him off the ground.

"Don't mistake your little messenger title for authority. When you come to my door, you will bow to your prince. And when you speak to me, you will look at the ground. Is that understood?" He dropped the man, but before he could respond to the prince, Vegeta turned. "Come, woman. We're going."

"Yes," she replied, quickly following him as he grabbed a new shirt from his dresser, threw it on over his head and walked out the door.

It took less than a few minutes to reach the throne room, and Vegeta threw open the doors so forcefully that they slammed against the walls and bounced right back. Bulma quickly slipped inside behind him before they struck her, slightly relieved that he wasn't paying any attention to her. But all her thoughts went blank when she saw what was right in front of her. The room was full of people, and not even the prince's loud entrance distracted anyone. The king sat on the throne in the far center of the large room, as always. But beneath him was a man that Bulma hadn't seen in a very long time.

It was Yamcha, naked, strapped to a tall wooden plank with metal chains and leather cuffs. He had bruises and dried blood all over his body. His eyes were darting around the room and his tongue hung out of his dry mouth like he was some kind of animal.

Bulma looked up and noticed that she wasn't behind Vegeta anymore. She looked around to find him, but he wasn't ahead of her.

"Are you the lucky lady?" a voice asked from behind her, and Bulma turned to find a hairy man in Saiyan traditional armor, eyeing her up and down, licking his lips. She gulped.

"Woman!" Vegeta called, and Bulma turned around again to find the prince, a little past a crowd of chattering females with purple skin. She wondered what planet they were from as she hurried past them. They didn't look very familiar.

She caught up to him and he scowled at her, probably for falling behind. But he stood in place now, his arms folded tightly over his chest and his eyes facing forward. She wondered why he wasn't trying to find a place closer to the king and the throne, where she would assume the prince should be during a gathering like this. Maybe he didn't want to stand out?

But Bulma had more concerning matters to attend to. Now, there were two of her friends working in the kitchen, and as far as she knew, they were the only Earthlings that worked in that area. She was holding her breath. This couldn't be happening…

"We haven't had a mating in years," she heard someone beside her say enthusiastically. She didn't want to look up to see, but she listened. "I wonder why the king decided to have one now."

"Maybe the Earthlings are dying off. I wouldn't be surprised if they were almost all dead by now, even after he brought some to the castle a few years back. Who knows? Maybe the ones around here are the last ones left."

"Hmm, that might be true. And if it is, then we need more of them now more than ever. If only we'd known their compatibility with Saiyans when they first arrived on Planet Vegeta. Maybe then we wouldn't have killed them all," a man laughed.

"Well, we did have our fun," another man cackled. "It's not our fault that their puny bodies couldn't handle us. We were just trying to keep their race alive, but they had to go and die in the middle of it."

"Maybe they died because it felt so good," another man joked.

"Yea, it couldn't have been the fact that they were bleeding to death while we were trying to show them a good time or anything."

A number of male voices erupted with laughed and Bulma could feel tears sting the back of her eyes. She kept begging in her head. Over and over. Please…

The king stood, and immediately the room got quiet, except for the rustle of metal chains while Yamcha struggled beneath the king. Bulma could almost hear his breathing, too.

"Thank you all for coming," the king said with a smirk that made Bulma's breath stop short in her throat. "There was an unfortunate accident in our primary military facility last night." Bulma forced herself to breathe. "An unknown person, presumably a Saiyan male, murdered forty-nine people. Forty of them were Saiyans. Nine were Earthlings—seven Earthling females and two males." A ripple of chatter went through the room for about five seconds before dying down again. "As I'm sure many of you are aware, our primary military camp is home to some of the last Earthling females in the universe. That being said, there were ten females in that camp, up until last night. Three remain, and a few others, scattered around the planet as necessary. Unfortunately, we have not been able to keep track of our Earthling males, and the two that were killed were part of the three that have been monitored over the years."

All eyes turned to Yamcha now. Bulma noticed that even Vegeta was eyeing him carefully. She forced herself to watch him, too… She remembered how she thought he was actually handsome when they all arrived in the royal castle for the first time together. She always knew that she would end up having to be with him, but now he looked terrifying. He looked sick… and rabid.

"The first order of business," the king continued, and all eyes went back to him. "The man who murdered these Earthlings has yet to be found. He was not a member of the military camp that was attacked, but to be able to kill that many other Saiyans—he either fights like a coward, or he is an elite warrior. Either way, he must be found and brought to me. Unfortunately, we have no leads. No one saw him. All we have is some hair and blood he left behind. And thanks to the technology of King Cold," he shouted, waving a hand towards the left side of the room, where Bulma noticed some members of the Cold race gathered together. "We were able to determine that the man's DNA was, in fact, Saiyan. This man must be brought to me for proper punishment and death. If anyone has any information on this, please step forward now."

The room went dead silent. Bulma couldn't even hear a footstep or a breath. She could have sworn she heard her own heartbeat, but everything was motionless anyway. And it stayed that way for over a minute. She felt like she was going to suffocate.

"Now," the king bellowed, and the room lost its tension. "This Earthling male may very well be the last of his kind. He has been kept in the dungeons and he has been prepared for his duty." Another man stepped out of the crowd and started heading towards the throne. Bulma noticed that it was a male Cold. He wore all white and carried something in his hand. The king just nodded at the small man as he approached Yamcha. "Also thanks to the generosity of King Cold," he said proudly, "We have combined our resources to be able to come up with a special serum." Bulma gulped when she saw that the thing the man was holding was a needle. "This serum makes it three times more likely that a male, of any species, can impregnate an Earthling female. We are grateful to King Cold for his favors, as this new invention will also be used to create more Saiyan-Earthling hybrids in the near future!."

The room erupted in applause, and while Bulma looked around, she noticed that the prince was scowling, his arms still crossed over his chest. Everyone but him and her were clapping and shouting. The small group of Colds across the room were standing, unwavering, still staring at the king.

When the noise died down again, Bulma watched with horror as the man stuck Yamcha with the needle and slowly injected him with whatever was inside. Yamcha screamed and struggled, and Bulma cupped her hand over her mouth, trying not to cry. Some people even clapped and hollered their enthusiasm.

"We're leaving," Vegeta suddenly said, grabbing her arm and dragging her through the crowd, back towards the large double doors. She was so focused on not tripping at the speed he was pulling her that she never had enough time to look back. But right as they stood a few feet from the double doors, they swung open, just as fast and hard as Vegeta had done, and a large man in blue spandex stormed through them. His footfalls were almost as loud as Yamcha's screams. But what came behind the man made Bulma scream louder than all of them.

" _Noooooo!"_ she cried, violently trying to tear herself from the prince's grasp, she felt something snap in her arm, but she was too blinded to care. Everything was turning gray and all she could see was her best friend, muzzled, kicking, being dragged along the shiny, tile floor.

It was Chichi.

Bulma struggled harder than if her life depended on her escape, but she felt the prince grab her with his other arm and yank her backwards. She fell into him and whirled, throwing out her hands and scratching at whatever she could come in contact with. But he managed to pin her arms with one hand, and he clamped his other hand over her mouth. She struggled until she was free enough to bite one of his fingers until she tasted blood, and she kept biting, harder. She wanted to snap bone and rip and tear until she could get to her friend.

But then she was lifted up into the air and whirled around until her back slammed into a wall. She opened her mouth to gasp, releasing the finger between her teeth. Her eyes opened and for the first time in a few moments, she could actually see. The prince was over her, but he looked strangely calm. How could he possibly be calm at a time like this?

"Let go of me!" she shouted, but he didn't budge and she couldn't move, either. "Vegeta, let go of me!" She moved to kick him, and she landed a solid hit, but she was pretty sure it hurt her more than it hurt him. She screamed again, but she noticed that she could barely hear herself over the cheering of everyone else in the room. Was it happening? Was it happening right now? She had to get away from the prince. She had to get to her friend. She had to help Chichi.

"There's nothing you can do," he said, narrowing his eyes, and she tried struggling against him again. There was no way she could believe him. There had to be something she could do.

"I can take her place!" she screamed, spitting in his face, and suddenly his eyes lit up with rage.

"No, you will not." He pushed her harder against the wall and she yelped. Something in her arm was throbbing, and pain was showing up in places she didn't remember getting hit. She winced. "That's what you get for defying me," Vegeta hissed, but she noticed that his hand was bleeding down his arm, and there were scratch marks on his neck… She did that, too?

"Vegeta," she suddenly whimpered, "Please… She's my _friend_."

"There's nothing you can do," he seethed again. "We're going back."

"Release the male!" the king suddenly bellowed, followed by continuous cheering.

Bulma heard Chichi's scream through it all and her tears suddenly overflowed and she screamed in reply. She went back to fighting the prince, who just held her steady against the wall. She tried kicking him again, over and over, knowing that she was hurting only herself. She threw her head forward, her forehead colliding with his shoulder. She tried biting him there but he relaxed just enough to throw her back against the wall yet again. Bulma felt all the oxygen leave her lungs from the pressure and coughed. She spit at his face again and he growled.

" _Enough_ ," he threatened quietly, but she barely heard him. She couldn't stop crying. Chichi screamed again.

" _Vegeta_!" Bulma cried in echo, futilely trying to squirm away from him again. "Please! Do something! Anything!"

"She's not in danger," he grumbled. "The last thing my father wants is for any other Earthlings to die. She'll be taken care of."

"Yea, after they force Yamcha to _rape_ her!" Vegeta stayed quiet. "Let me _go_!" He wouldn't budge and she was running out of options. She was going to have to stand idly by while this happened and she couldn't handle it. She took a deep inhale and screamed as loud as she'd ever done in her life. " _I'll take her place! I'll take her place! I'll—_ "

Vegeta slammed his hand over her mouth again, nearly snapping her jaw, but definitely snapping something else. She tasted blood in her mouth again, but she couldn't even register the pain throughout her body. All she could focus on were Chichi's growing screams and the whistles and hollers of the disgusting pigs surrounding her. She somehow found her one arm loose and tore it away. She threw futile punches at the prince's chest. He didn't even bother trying to stop her.

"You're hurting yourself," he said, gently grabbing her arm and placing it at her side. Bulma felt exhausted, and before she knew it she was leaning forward, grabbing onto his shirt and crying into his chest. He didn't budge, but his hold on her loosened just enough for her to know exactly where she was going to bruise by tomorrow.

"There has to be something…" she cried.

"We're leaving."

"I can't!" she said, looking up at him desperately, "Vegeta, I can't leave her!"

But he just glowered down at her like she was a misbehaving child. How could he…

"Are you done?" he asked, his voice terse.

"You call yourself the prince of this horrible planet," Bulma spat, "But the truth is, you could never be in charge. You couldn't stop this from happening even if your life depended on it. You're just another one of the king's puppets, tricked into believing that you have some kind of power. But if it came down to you and the king, you would never get what you wanted unless he wanted it, too."

Bulma expected some kind of a reaction from Vegeta, maybe something to make him take action… or do anything that could help her friend. Or even to buy her a little time to figure out what she could do. But instead, he barely reacted, save for his eyes narrowing a bit at her. He just stood back, one hand still gripping her arm in case she tried to bolt again.

But then the double doors slammed open once more, and another man barged into the throne room. The doors slammed against the walls harder and louder than Vegeta's explosive entrance. Bulma's head turned up, and for a small moment, Vegeta was distracted. He turned to look towards the loud booming noise and his grip on her loosened. Bulma tore herself free in one painful motion and rushed through the crowd in front of her, knocking into people and nearly falling over herself. She could almost see the opening. She could almost get to her friend…

"I claim her!" A voice suddenly shouted, and Bulma froze right at the edge of the crowd. Her eyes widened at her best friend, sobbing on the ground, with her clothes torn and her hair disheveled. Yamcha was over her, naked and still rabid. Bulma tried not to look at him, but his body looked terrible. He was covered in scratches and marks and his skin was almost green in certain places, like he was growing something under his skin. She couldn't help but notice his erection, dark brown and red like he had some kind of disease. She wondered if the serum had done that…

But Yamcha was frozen, and so was everyone else in the room. They were all looking at the Saiyan that had just barged in unannounced, panting, but obviously angry and on a short fuse. Even the king was frozen for a moment. But Bulma almost cried with happiness.

It was Goku.

"What?" the king suddenly barked, and whispers went around the room like a wildfire.

"I said I claim her!" Goku shouted, turning to face everyone in the room. "The rules of Earthling mating rituals state that if a female already belongs to a Saiyan male, she can't be used! Well, this Earthling is mine! You cannot use her for this mating!"

"And why didn't you step forward earlier?" the king asked slowly, and Bulma could hear the danger in his tone. She hated everything about the king, but his voice never failed to scare her. And the tone he used now made her knees tremble.

"I had no idea what was going on—"

"And how do I know that she's truly yours? You have no proof."

"She's been mine, for a while now," Goku said slowly. "And we've mated. So, if you use her in this mating and she becomes pregnant, you won't know whose child it is until it's born."

"That is incorrect," a Cold woman suddenly intervened with a strange smirk. She stepped forward and no one objected. "My Lord, King Cold, has recently created a machine that can allow us to check the statistics of an unborn child, merely a couple weeks into a pregnancy. It was made for our own species, but it can easily be modified to be used on Earthlings and Saiyans. It could tell you who the father is without fault."

"Once again, another tremendous accomplishment by our allies, the Colds!" the king suddenly said, standing and leading another round of applause.

"But she is my female!" Goku shouted over everyone. "You can't take her from me!"

"Those are the old rules," the king suddenly said, "We have less than ten Earthling females on our planet, three of which are unaccounted for. We must abandon the old rules in order to further progress on our planet and increase our strength and our numbers. We will need more hybrids in the future, and this is the only way to accomplish that necessary goal. If I allowed—"

Bulma jumped when she saw Vegeta walking up the steps to the throne from the side. The king paused, and the room went silent. Even Yamcha stopped rattling his metal chains for a moment. Chichi was staring wide-eyed at Goku, who kept giving her reassuring glances. Bulma's eyes focused on the throne now, as dis everyone else's.

The king lifted an eyebrow and everyone paused as Vegeta said something inaudible close to the king's ear. And after a moment, the king leaned back, snorted, frowned, and quickly motioned for Vegeta to get out of his sight. Bulma watched as Vegeta immediately left the throne and walked along the outside of the room. She jumped when he appeared behind her and grabbed her arm again.

"We're leaving," he said, tugging her hard. Bulma winced, but she knew he meant it this time. All eyes were on him now, but only until the king spoke up again.

"Your prince," the king bellowed, "Has brought up a very good point. Rules should not just be changed without word or warning, or else there will be chaos." Bulma looked up at Vegeta, almost feeling like giving him a big hug. He actually went up there to save her best friend? She was so happy, she couldn't even control the smile spreading on her face. But he was looking straight ahead. Something was wrong… However, this will be the last case of claiming an Earthling female. We need to create as many as possible, and for that reason, we will be holding monthly matings in the throne room, until every Earthling female is impregnated. And when they have more females, we will do it all over again until they are unable to reproduce, or they are dead. And so, with the exception of this black-haired Earthling—"

" _Move_!" Vegeta shouted at Bulma, yanking her arm again. Bulma winced.

"—we will begin these matings next month with the Earthling females within the castle!"

Everything in Bulma's world went dim. She stopped listening to the noises around her, and the prince dragging her towards the exit felt like she was drifting on clouds. The king's words stuck, but she wished so badly that she hadn't heard him correctly that her mind went numb. Everything was blank. The king was mentioning something about Yamcha's constant protection and supervision, but she couldn't focus. What he said couldn't be right… When she came to the castle, she was promised protection, and when it was time for her to have a child, which she always knew was going to be expected of her… it was going to be with Yamcha… in a big bed, in a nice open room, where she would be comfortable and sleep until the morning light caressed her face and she woke up to a hot breakfast… Not a rape on a cold floor in front of the king and countless others. And not with that Yamcha… She'd never expected him to change that much… Or maybe she just thought of him in her head the way she wished he would be when the time finally came. But even so… this was never what she had in mind.

She focused on the fact that Chichi was safe. Goku and Vegeta had come to her rescue, but she hadn't been able to do a single thing to help her friend. All she did was struggle and shout, and now that she was calming down, the pain throughout her body was hitting her like a cement truck. Her arms and legs were in pain. Her ribs hurt from how she twisted her body trying to get away from Vegeta. Her throat stung from shouting and her head throbbed from crying. She just wanted to lay down and sleep and never wake up again. Or at least wake up and find that this whole day was a dream. Or a joke. It had to be a joke… Her life, up until now… It was all just a ruse, wasn't it? She was never truly safe here. She was always bound to have this fate and she just ignored it and hoped it would go away… How foolish…

"—everything inside and bring it here. Then bar over the door," Vegeta said, and Bulma looked up to find that he was talking to a guard in the hallway. They were already standing outside the prince's chambers and she hadn't even noticed. She hadn't noticed that he'd released her arm, either.

"Yessir," the guard replied, bowing extra low and hurrying off down the hall.

The prince opened the door and Bulma followed him inside. It took her a moment, but when she looked up, he was pointing to his bedchambers.

"Sleep," he said, "You look terrible and that reflects badly on me."

"How?" she muttered. "I'm just a slave. I'm not your equal. I should always look like I belong in the dirt at your feet anyway. You have nothing to complain about." Her voice sounded dead and she knew it.

The prince pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, crossing his arms and staring at her with a horribly aggravated expression.

"What? No fight left in you anymore?" he asked. "You used it all up hopelessly defying me before?"

Bulma wanted to fight. She hated his mocking tone and his anger and annoyance. What did he even have to be annoyed about? But he was right—her fight was gone. Everything felt… gone.

"Thank you for saving Chichi," she mumbled, staring at the ground, but suddenly the chair slammed backwards onto the floor and the prince was in front of her.

"I said sleep," he commanded, his tone harsh, but Bulma could still barely concentrate. She barely heard him. But he was a few inches from her, and he hadn't been that close since… She didn't move, but instead squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, tears spilled over and she couldn't stop herself from dropping to her knees.

Within a few seconds, the prince lifted her into his arms, walked over to the side of his bed and gently placed her at the edge. And then his presence was gone, and she found herself getting a little cold… She didn't want to be left alone. But another few seconds went by and she felt him lie down on the other side. Without warning, and without thinking, she forced her body to move over to where he was and she reached out her arm and grabbed the first thing she could reach.

"Please…," she whispered in the dimly lit room. She could only see his shadow and his silhouette. "Don't leave me alone."

She felt him freeze for a second before he moved, and she realized that she'd latched onto his wrist. He lifted his arm above her reach, forcing her to let go, and she felt more tears about to overflow, but then his warmth was beside her again and her body instantly and unconsciously calmed. He wasn't touching her, but she could feel his body heat beside her, and she knew if she moved over an inch, they would touch. But she didn't dare move.

What was with him? Acting arrogant and cruel one minute, and then turning around and saving her best friend in the next. But at the same time, he couldn't care less what happened to her, right? Because now she was doomed. Would she be chosen next month for a mating? She was made to suffer the same fate that Chichi just barely escaped from today… And now there was no way for anyone to save her from it, either. It wasn't like she could magically find a Saiyan that would be willing to "claim her" anyway. Chichi got really lucky with Goku. But still… that would have been hope, at least. Maybe if Yamcha hadn't looked like he'd been tortured into being a wild animal, she wouldn't be so scared. But seeing him before had been terrifying. He'd been looking at Chichi like she was a piece of meat… He wasn't the same person she used to fantasize about with her friends when they first arrived in the castle three years ago.

Now, she had to do something. She had to find a way to save herself. And having a child… it wasn't something shed even had time to consider or think about in the past. She always thought it was going to be something she would have years to ponder over. But instead, here she was… A month was really all she could have…

And even then, she was bound to spend it here, cleaning up after the pompous, arrogant prince. It was true he had his moments, where she thought that maybe he wasn't as bad as everyone believed. But then he would just end up doing something to let her down again. She was done waiting for him to turn into the good guy for her. It wasn't like it was ever even an option, but sometimes she caught herself wishing that she could forget all the horrible things he'd done—to her and to others.

She wished he could actually care about something other than himself. And as she flipped over and gently touched his arm for comfort, she forced herself to believe that maybe he cared a little about what happened to her.

Even if it was just a lie to help her fall asleep...


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

Bulma woke up to silence, but it woke her like a gunshot and she bolted upright. She remembered everything in an instant, and reality set in before she could recall ever being asleep. But although she knew her own fate, she sighed because Chichi was safe. Nothing had happened to her best friend, and nothing was ever going to happen to her because now she had Goku…

Her mind immediately registered where she was—the prince's bed. She thought this kind of behavior ended when he assaulted her the other day, and forced her to lay there and watch him have sex with that whore… But that was probably too easy. He was probably planning on how he could make her suffer in her last month of peace.

"You say the strangest things when you sleep."

Bulma jumped and turned her head. The prince was lying in bed behind her, narrowing his eyes. How didn't she notice him before? And it looked like he'd been awake for a while, even though Bulma had the feeling that it was extremely early in the day, considering how early she'd fallen asleep last night. It couldn't have been much past sundown, which meant that the sun might not even be up yet.

"E…Excuse me?" Bulma asked. He was staring directly at her, almost flat on his back with his hands behind his head. She jumped when he lifted his knee and the blankets beside her moved with him.

"Makes me wonder what you were dreaming about," he said slowly, almost as if she'd done something wrong. But she knew that even if she tried her hardest, there was no way she could remember what she'd been dreaming about. She wasn't even sure that she'd dreamt at all.

"I… don't remember," she said flatly, and she felt like she was about to say something else, but instead a loud knock came from the door She watched the prince's face turn from not unhappy to angry. "I'll get it," she quickly said, jumping up and off the bed. She realized that she was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, and Vegeta was wearing pants and a shirt, as well. She'd never seen him sleep with a shirt on before… But both of their clothes were disheveled. Hers even had some dried blood on it. But before she could think too much about it, the knocking at the door became insistent and she hurried to unlock it.

"My prince!—"

Bulma blinked a few times at the familiar face in front of her. She never thought she'd seen her again, or at least not so soon.

"You're not… oh, right. I remember you. You're friends with Chichi, right? I forgot you're the prince's little slave girl," the woman laughed. It was the gossiper that Maron was forced to replace in the kitchens so that she could go be a whore for the Saiyans. And she was certainly dressed the part—bright red clothes that left little to the imagination. But that meant that she was here to…

"What are you doing?" Vegeta asked, suddenly standing right behind Bulma. She froze, but realized he wasn't talking to her. "I didn't call for anyone."

"I know. My bosses tell me that you haven't called anyone in a few days, actually. They were getting worried, so they sent me to take care of you, my Lord." She did a little curtsy and Bulma gulped, slowly moving out of the way. "And I may be new for you, but trust me. I've had a lot of training. And most of it was especially to your tastes, my handsome prince."

There was a pause between the three of them that seemed to stretch on too long, and Bulma suddenly felt like it was her fault. She was in the way, right? It was only awkward for her because she didn't want to be involved. This was how it always was, and this was how it would stay.

"Servant woman," Vegeta finally said, and she looked up at him. He wasn't even looking at her. "You want to see that Earthling girl?" he asked, and of course she did, but she didn't know how to respond. "Go get me some food from the kitchens, and find yourself some proper clothes… And… take your time."

The kitchen gossip-whore suddenly beamed with delight and stepped under the doorway. Bulma just stared at her for a moment before giving a slight bow and stepping out into the hallway. She turned just in time to see the prince closing the door behind her. Their eyes met for a moment and she thought he was going to hold the door and say something, but he didn't. And the moment passed by like it was nothing.

Bulma took a long breath and tried to steady her heart and her mind. She had to stop getting weird feelings whenever the prince gave her a little attention that didn't involve something mean or selfish. Just because he did a couple nice things and said some nice words, that didn't make him a good person. She had to keep telling herself that. And she realized she'd been having to tell herself that a lot recently…

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"I'm sorry, Bulma…"

Bulma blinked at her black-haired best friend and it took her a moment. She'd just given her a big hug and told her how happy she was that nothing bad ended up happening to her in the end. Goku had apparently just taken her from the throne room pretty quickly after her and Vegeta had left. This was a good thing, so…

"What do you mean?" Bulma asked. "You don't have to be sorry for anything."

"But now… next month… Everyone is going to be…" Chichi lowered her head and Bulma jumped when she started crying. She didn't know what to do.

"It's not like it wasn't going to happen one day, anyway," Maron suddenly piped in, looking very unhappy about having to stir yet another doughy mixture for the bakery. She looked odd in the kitchen's apron-uniform, too. It would take some getting used to. "We all knew that Yamcha was going to end up sleeping with all of us eventually. Wasn't that common sense? I'm more surprised that it took them this long to do something about it…"

"You're crazy," Chichi suddenly replied, angry tears on her face. "You have no idea what you're saying. You weren't even there."

"But we did all know… That was the whole reason Yamcha was brought here. Bulma," she said, turning to her, "You and I used to talk about how handsome he was and how we were happy that it was him, and not some brute or Saiyan or… anyone else. For real, though. Imagine if it had to be the Saiyan king or something terrible like that. I'm still happy it's Yamcha, if you ask me."

"Well, I didn't," Chichi spat.

"You have a point, though," Bulma said sadly, and Chichi looked at her like she had four heads. Bulma just shook her head at her. "I mean… since yesterday, all I've been feeling was fear and anxiety… But when you put it like that, then yea. I'm really glad it's not a cruel Saiyan or someone worse. It's just been bothering me… the way he looked. Like he wasn't all there."

"He wasn't," Chichi said, "He was actually mumbling something about having to do it "for him," which was really weird. I was trying to talk to him, but he was just like some kind of rabid animal. Like he couldn't hear anything I was saying, or he was programmed or something to act the way he was and… you know, do what he was told to do. It was creepy, under all the fear and desperation, I guess."

"That's what I thought," Bulma said.

"I heard you, you know," Chichi suddenly said, softly, a small smile showing on her face. "I heard you screaming for me, Bulma."

"I'm so sorry, Chi. There was nothing I could do. I tried…"

"I know. I know that if you could have done something, you would have. I was actually relieved when I heard you. I couldn't see you, but I felt a little better when I heard you."

"And I wanted to apologize… about saying bad things about Goku. I really… I just didn't know that there were any good Saiyans in the world," Bulma laughed. "But I'm so happy that he came for you. You have no idea how great it is to know that he's protecting you from all this."

Chichi smiled. "He really is great."

"Speaking of Saiyan boys," Maron said, exaggerating as she threw down her spatula and stopped stirring the dough mix. Chichi sighed. "How are things with the prince, Bulma?"

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"Well, you like him, right?"

"What? No!"

"That's not what Chichi said the other day," Maron smirked, and Chichi rose her hands in the air. Bulma glared at her for a minute.

"Hey, I just mentioned that he started acting friendly towards you and that you started actually talking about him to me. That's it, okay?"

"That wasn't it," Maron laughed. "You totally said that she's into him."

There was a long moment of silence where Bulma just gave Chichi a slight glare, and her black-haired friend avoided eye contact. Maron just smirked at both of them.

"Well," Bulma said. "I'm not, so…"

"Oh, come on!" Chichi shouted. A few of the kitchen staff paused for a second to look over at her. "Is it really that hard to just say that you're a little friendly with him?"

"What does that even mean?" Bulma sneered.

"I'm just saying… that apart from about a month ago, you never even mentioned the prince. And now he's a normal conversation topic. So, something changed."

"Yea, and I explained it to you already. He almost died, and I thought, in a moment of weakness, that maybe I should try and get to know him a little better, or at least talk to him for once in my life, and then he started treating me like… a slave… So, now I have something else to complain about. That's all."

"And what about when he asked you to have breakfast with him for the first time? And when he started asking you to sleep in his bed with him? And I told you about those science experiments between Earthlings and Saiyans, didn't I? I was thinking that maybe has something to do with me and Goku, actually…"

"You're exaggerating—"

"It actually sounds more like the prince is into _you_ ," Maron said, "Not the other way around."

"That…" Bulma said with a long exhale, "Is even crazier than Chichi's opinion."

"But I see it, too," Chichi frowned. "He's so lenient on you when he has a reputation to just kill people that look at him the wrong way. And you sleep in his _bed_ , Bulma! If you aren't going to agree with us, at least realize the facts."

"He makes me sleep in his bed because he knows it makes me uncomfortable. And for the record, when he asked me to eat breakfast with him, he ended up taking off my collar instead and I ended up in the medical wing. And those science experiments aren't facts. They're just made up."

"And you don't like him at all?" Maron asked.

"No!"

"How about you don't answer so fast and you actually think about it?"

"The answer is still going to be _no_!"

"I think she's in denial," Maron said to Chichi and Bulma shot her a glare.

"And what about him? You really think he treats you just like he treats everyone else?"

"Of course! If anything, he treats me like I'm some kind of a toy! He uses me for entertainment and that's it. If he's bored, he'll do something cruel. If he's not bored, he'll just ignore me. That's how it's always been."

"I think that maybe you should test out our theory for yourself," Maron suddenly said with a giggle, and Chichi quickly nodded.

"What does that even mean? If I try anything, he's just going to punish me. I'm not kidding, guys. This isn't something to just play around with. If I do something he really doesn't like, he's just going to send me away or kill me on the spot."

"Like that! I think that he would never kill you," Chichi said.

"Yea, well… That's not exactly a test I'm willing to do, okay? Believe it or not with everything that's been going on around here, I do want to continue living. Suicide really isn't my thing."

"You could always just _ask_ him if he likes you," Maron smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. "And I don't mean with words."

"That's disgusting," Bulma spat. "And I already know that he would probably sleep with me if I allowed it. It's not like he's never tried to have his way with me before, you know. That should be proof enough that he doesn't care about me."

"But he didn't," Chichi added. "That's what you told me. You said he stopped. He never really did anything to you like that, right?"

"Yea, because I put up a fight!"

"You think he stops with every girl that puts up a fight?" Maron asked. "Uh, hell no. He's Prince Vegeta. He does what he wants. Everyone knows that. So, the fact that he stopped is proof that he treats you like you're special."

"He just treats me like I'm in charge of cleaning his plate and preparing his baths. What's the point of talking about this stuff anyway?"

"Just think about it, okay?" Maron asked, and Bulma rolled her eyes. "No, we're serious. Right, Chichi?" The black-haired beauty nodded. "Just think about what we're saying."

"Okay, fine. I'll think about it. But what's the point? If he doesn't care, everything is exactly where it should be, and nothing changes. And if… If you guys are right, then what, huh? Then he treats me like I'm special. So, what? I'll still have to have sex with Yamcha in a month. I'll still be some weak Earthling girl. I'll still be the prince's chambermaid. Literally… nothing happens. I'm just a little less likely to be killed by him? Then, sure. I guess that's great. So, I'll think about it. Happy?"

"You like him…" Chichi said, but she was frowning. Bulma barely realized it, but she'd started crying. She frowned back.

"I really don't, Chi. He just makes me angry. And sad. There's nothing about him that's worth caring for. He doesn't treat me any differently than anyone else."

"Then why are you crying?"

Bulma wiped the tears off her face, grabbed the handle of her usual food cart and headed for the door. She turned around to see Maron and Chichi still staring at her.

"I can't, okay?" she said, pursing her lips. "We all know that even if I did care about him, it wouldn't get me anywhere. I would just end up hurt. That's all he ever does is hurt me. So, I can't. And I don't want to think about it, either, okay?"

They looked worried, but she couldn't keep talking about this. It was such a silly and pointless topic, anyway. So, she turned and left without another word.

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Bulma neared the prince's chambers with her head down. What were Chichi and Maron thinking, talking about things like that? Sure, it was all fun and games with her and Goku, because she'd been saved by him, and he was different from the other Saiyans. He was kind and compassionate and he acted selflessly to save someone that he cared for. In her case, the prince wasn't capable of that kind of caring. So, what was even the point or thinking about such things? Even if he thought she was worth keeping around for a while, that didn't make him a good person. Because he decided it was best to not have her tortured or killed… that wasn't caring about someone. That was insanity. He did what he wanted to her anyway. She'd been punished. She'd been sent to the infirmary because of him. Thinking about romance with someone like Vegeta was… it was just impossible.

"Help me!"

Bulma looked up and saw the whore sprinting down the hall towards her. She was naked… and bleeding. She cried out as she tripped and fell forward, and quickly stood herself up again, sprinting again.

"Whoa, what happened?" Bulma asked, putting her arm out. "What happened to you? Where's Prince Vegeta?"

"He's going to kill me," the woman cried, slowing just enough to say a few words. She kept glancing behind her, but no one was there. "I just… I didn't know, okay?!"

"No one is coming after you," Bulma said quickly, putting her hands up. "No one is going to hurt you. Just tell me what happened and I can get you some help."

"They told me not to," the woman cried, falling to the floor. But she glanced back again and immediately stood. "They told me! But I thought he liked me. I did everything right. He was really into it and I was so proud, because it was my first time with him and all. I just thought…"

"Slow down. Please. I don't understand." Bulma reached out her hand but the woman shrunk away from it, quickly glancing behind her again.

"I tried to kiss him! I'm so sorry! He's gonna kill me! I'll never do it again, I promise!" she screamed, tears spilling down her face. "He hit me! He shot my arm! He's coming after me! I don't wanna die!"

"W-What?" Bulma stammered. She looked at the bleeding wound on the woman's shoulder for only a moment, red spilling down her arm, before she bolted down the hall. Bulma knew she had to get the food to the prince's room, but she wanted to get that woman some help… And how was she _that_ afraid? What did Vegeta do to her? Over just a kiss—especially when they were probably doing much more indecent things than that… And that probably meant that he was going to be I a terrible mood when she got back. She looked up, half expecting him to be charging down the hall, but he never came. And she knew he wasn't coming.

Sighing, she rolled the food cart to the door of his chambers, unlocked it, and pushed it inside. Just as the door shut behind her, the prince stepped out of the bathroom, wiping his wet hair with a towel. He was, thankfully, wearing a pair of spandex pants, although he was shirtless, as usual.

"Did… something happen?" Bulma slowly asked, not meeting his eyes.

"What are you babbling about?" he grumbled.

"Nothing. I just thought… that girl would still be here. Usually you take a bit longer…"

"If you want to watch again, all you have to do is ask."

"No, thank you."

She quickly set up his usual spot at the long table and pushed the car off to the side of the room. It took her a couple minutes, and he came to sit down just in time.

"I'll prepare you a bath," she said quickly, looking for an excuse to not be near him. He wasn't openly irritated, but maybe he was just hiding it.

"I just showered," he replied tersely.

"Oh… Then, I'll… go get you some new sheets."

"You just replaced them yesterday," he said.

"Well, I thought… that your pillows were a little too thin last night, so I'll go get you some new—"

"The pillows are fine," he growled, and Bulma finally looked over at him. "And I'm sure you had other things to think about last night. I doubt the thickness of my pillows was what you were worried about." He shoveled some hot food into his mouth and glowered at her. Bulma gulped, not knowing what she was supposed to be doing, then.

"Is there… anything else I can get you?"

He didn't reply, and she found herself standing there, in front of him as he ate, for a good few minutes. It was silent, but a knock came at the door, immediately followed by the prince slamming his fist on the table. Bulma jumped, but moved to open the door. She heard Vegeta mumbled angrily about how people couldn't leave him alone for a couple hours.

"Yes?" Bulma said, finding a thin, wobbly-looking soldier in the threshold. She looked down and narrowed her eyes. "Hey," she said, noticing a familiar large bag. "That's my stuff!"

"Here you go, my Lord," the feeble soldier said, quickly bowing towards Vegeta and pushing Bulma's luggage through the door. He bowed again and left in a hurry.

"Hey!" Bulma called after him, but the door nearly shut in her face. She turned angrily. "What is this? Why is my stuff here?" she asked.

"Your room has been vacated for the time being. You'll be moving in here until I say otherwise."

"Excuse me?" she huffed, placing her hands on her hips and giving him a glare. "And for what reason, exactly?"

"So when my father sends someone to come get you for the mating, I'll know the exact moment when I'll have to _replace_ you."

Bulma stood silent for a moment. She'd forgotten about the mating for a peaceful moment, and she couldn't find the will to argue once it entered her mind again. She lowered her head and looked at the floor. She heard the chair squeak along the floor as it moved, and she squeezed her eyes shut when she heard the prince step closer to her.

"Just… leave me alone," she whispered.

She gasped when he grabbed her arm and she looked up at him. She met his eyes and regretted it, as always. He was staring at her and it was intimidating. Was he trying to scare her? Of course he was… What else was new? She hoped his boredom wouldn't last too long this time.

"If I do _this_ ," he suddenly said, gripping her arm a bit tighter. She winced. "What would you do?"

"I'm _really_ not in the mood for your stupid games—"

"This," he said, grabbing her other arm. He pulled her hand until it rested on his arm. "Dig your nails into my wrist, here." He moved her fingers along his skin and Bulma gulped again. "Between these two tendons…" She felt them under his skin. "And if I do this," he said, lifting her suddenly and shoving her against the wall. She gasped, but it didn't hurt. "What would you do?"

"Vegeta, cut it out—"

"Kick," he said, "When your arms are pinned." He reached down and ran the back of his hand over her thigh. She shivered for a split second, but then tried to kick him for real. He smirked and caught her leg. "Good," he whispered. "And if I do this…" He spun her around and the side of her face hit the wall. Bulma groaned and struggled, but his weight was pinning her against the wall. "You go straight down." He immediately lifted her into the air, and in the next moment he had her pinned down on his bed.

"Get off me," Bulma warned.

"If I do this," he said slowly, pinning her arms above her head with one hand and grabbing a handful of her shirt with the other. He pinned her legs with his own so she couldn't move. Bulma instinctively spit in his face. She expected him to respond by hitting her, but instead he chuckled. "No," he said. "You'll twist… here." The hand grabbing her shirt slowly moved down to her waist and he gently grabbed her, moving her where he wanted her to go. Bulma felt her face get hot. "Until one of your legs is free."

"What are you doing?" she suddenly asked, but he ignored her and flipped her over in another motion. She got dizzy for a second. He pinned her arms behind her back and pushed her face into the pillows.

"Now, what do you do?" he asked, and she squirmed, but he held her arms tighter and she almost cried out.

"Stop! You're hurting me!"

He loosened his grip on her wrists, but she felt his face lean down next to hers. "No one is going to help you, you know," he whispered, flipping her over again. He was over her, but he didn't hold her down again. Bulma was panting. "But if you can knock him out, you can at least buy yourself some time."

"What?" she breathed. "What are you talking about?"

He paused, staring down at her for a few seconds. "I don't know. Whatever." He rolled off the bed and stood. Bulma stared at him in shock. Was this… about the mating? Was he trying to show her how to defend herself? How silly… if she tried, she'd just end up getting knocked out or held down by someone else… There was no point to this… But Chichi and Maron's words suddenly rang in her mind. Was this… did the prince honestly care? Or was this just some stupid fetish game to get her on his bed again?

"Wait," she suddenly said, and Vegeta turned back to her. What was she doing? "What if… my hair… What if someone grabs my hair?"

He lifted an eyebrow, but sat back down on the bed. He reached over and grabbed her hair. She thought he was going to hurt her for a moment, but instead he just held her aquamarine hair in his palm, sliding between his fingers like water.

"If anyone tries to rip out this hair, I'll kill them myself."

"W… What?"

"If I do that," he said, crawling back over her. He gently took a fistful of her hair. Bulma's eyes went wide. "What would you do?"

"I… I don't know," she whispered. It felt like she was losing her voice. Maybe it was from all the screaming she did yesterday. That had to be it…

"Forget about it," he said softly, almost sadly. "Let it get ripped out. Worry about it later. Just get away, however you can."

"And what if…" Bulma slowly tried to look at his face, but she couldn't do it. Her eyes rested on his collarbone and his throat. She didn't dare raise her gaze any higher. "What if… I do this?" she whispered, slowly bringing her hand up and placing it flat against his bare chest. Her heart was beating too hard against her ribs and her face was too hot. What was she doing?

He released her hair and just hovered over her, his elbows on either side of her. He didn't move and he didn't respond. But she knew he was looking at her. She could feel the heat from his eyes on her face. But she couldn't move, either. She knew she had to take her hand off him, but she couldn't.

"You… wouldn't do anything?" she suddenly found herself asking. She knew her face had to be beat red by now, but strangely enough, she didn't care.

"You tell me."

"What if I… did this?" she whispered hoarsely, slowly moving her fingers up to his collarbone. Then his shoulder, and the side of his neck, until her fingertips found the edge of his hair, and her hand was against the side of his face. She still couldn't look past his chin, and she couldn't even blink. God, what was she doing?

"What do you think I should do?" he asked, and her mind snapped a little back to attention from hearing his voice. She knew his tone meant that he was smirking at her. Was this all just part of his little game? This game he played because he was bored again? She was just a toy, wasn't she? God, she hated herself for letting him win. She drew back her hand and quickly folded her arms across her chest, turning her head to the side and waiting for him to get off her.

But he didn't move. And she found herself not wanting to give up, either. If she tried to do anything else now, he would be getting what he wanted. So, she remained still and silent, waiting. And it stayed that way for a couple minutes.

"What do you want?" she suddenly asked.

"What do _you_ want?" he slowly replied. But his tone wasn't mocking or jeering. She wanted to look up at him to see his expression, but she didn't dare. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction this time around.

She kept frowning, staring at the far wall. He wasn't getting off her, and she felt like this was a stalemate. But she heard Chichi and Maron's words ring in her head again. Maybe the prince did treat her like she was special, but that didn't mean he cared about her. And maybe he didn't want to kill her, but maybe that was temporary, too. The truth was that she had no idea what was going on in his head, and now her brain was begging her to find out. What if Chichi was right—not about her liking him, but him caring about her? It was possible… right? In his own way, he had just been trying to help her before. That was about the mating ritual, right? That was about defending herself against Yamcha? Or it was just another one of his sick games, and she was very, very wrong. Everything about him confused her. How was someone capable of such evil also capable of caring? That was impossible… He murdered thousands, destroyed planets, and her friends honestly believed that he wouldn't kill her if she did something he hated…

And she didn't know why, but she needed to know now. She turned her head and looked right at him. He lifted an eyebrow, clearly unfazed, and Bulma glared at him for only a moment.

"What if I did this?" She reached up to his face, placed one hand against his cheek, and pressed her lips against his.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten:**

The young Saiyan crossed his arms over his chest and stared out the dirty window. Outside, the sky was a bright orange, a pretty normal day on Planet Vegeta. He didn't know why his father had taken to making him watch these kinds of things. He heard the older man fucking that pink-skinned whore in the other room and he knew he'd be in trouble for not watching the entire thing. But hearing the slap of flesh against flesh was more than enough for him. He listened to the female's cries of pleasure as they got closer and closer to the sound of screaming. And the soft moans of the older man turned into louder grunts. It was almost time…

He sighed and turned his head, taking a few steps around the corner, grunting his displeasure when he saw his father's naked backside on the ruined bed, hammering up and down, pale pink legs swung to one side, jerking back and forth like a rag doll. The female's incessant screaming was getting louder and louder, and now she was begging, maybe even crying. Oh, she would have something to cry about in a minute…

The Saiyan's fourteenth birthday had passed without anyone noticing, as always. But his father knew his age, and every year he gave him a present just like this one. Just like when he had his tail cut off. Or when he earned his first whore. Or when he earned his first kill. Each time was strange. Each present was eerie, but eventually he got used to it. Each time, he learned the cruelty of the world, and each time he embraced it a little closer to his heart. And he had his father to thank for it all.

"Oh, god…," the female cried out in a choked moan. But something else was at the edge of her voice, and the young Saiyan stepped around to be able to see her face turn from expecting orgasm to fear. It was an interesting transition, to say the least. "Wh… What are you doing?" she asked, and the older Saiyan let out a laugh.

"What do you mean, my dear?" The young Saiyan watched his father at work, doing what he did best. He grabbed the female by her skinny neck and squeezed until her face turned beat red. A vain popped out on her temple and she grabbed for the large hand constricting her.

"W… Why?" she cried, but then the Saiyan released her and chuckled.

"I'm just kidding," he said, but the fear didn't leave the female's face. God, this man was a sick fuck, the younger Saiyan thought with a smirk.

"Maybe… Maybe I should go." The female's purple lips shuddered as she spoke, and slick, clear sweat beaded on her forehead. "Thank you… for your time." She bowed and tried to bring her legs back to her, but the older Saiyan pinned them to the bed with one large hand.

"What? No goodbye kiss?" he asked with an unnerving laugh.

The female stared at him for a second before leaning up to give him a quick, frightened peck on the lips, but instead of letting her go free, he pushed her back down and kissed her harder. The young Saiyan lifted an eyebrow at his father as he continued watching, as previously ordered. The older man kissed the female down into the pillow so hard that she started struggling for air. He arms flailed around helplessly, grabbing and scratching at anything she could find. She gripped the sheets, tugged on the man's hair, scratched at his bare skin. She even drew blood, but the man just chuckled as he pulled back, staring down at her frightened face.

"Now," he said, and his voice was enough to make chills run down a grown man's spine. The younger Saiyan tsked and looked away for only a moment in his discomfort. "Kiss me like you mean it."

The female was crying now. The younger Saiyan was surprised it took her this long, but she pursed those dark purple lips and kissed the man hard, grabbing his face in her hands and doing exactly what he asked. The man chuckled before parting his lips and nibbling at the female's bottom lip. She let out a forced moan and swiped her tongue against him in reply.

"There you go," the man mumbled against her mouth, "Was that so hard, love?" But before she could answer, he sucked her tongue into his mouth and bit down. Hard. The female screamed and instantly pulled back, blood oozing out of her mouth in waves that crashed down over her chin, spilling over her naked breasts and onto the red sheets beneath her. She started choking, but the man leaned forward and pushed his lips on hers again. She tried screaming, but he spat her tongue back into her mouth and grabbed her bottom lip with his front teeth, tearing whatever flesh he came in contact with. The female continued screaming as she tried to get away, but the amount of blood that was coming from her mouth was much more than the young Saiyan would have ever imagined from a single bite.

The female opened her mouth to scream something, but she couldn't form words without her tongue, so the older Saiyan just laughed and sat up. She struggled to climb out of bed, but she vomited up more blood and started dry heavy over the bed, her tears mixing in with everything else coming out of her. Her cries and moans turned into a gurgle as she coughed on blood and vomit. The two Saiyans just watched her as she struggled, but after another few minutes, her body was perfectly still.

The Saiyan man leaned in close. The female was just breathing, her body struggling to keep her from falling unconscious, although that would probably happen soon anyway, at this rate. Her mouth was still bleeding. "I know why you came to me tonight. You thought you could take revenge into your own hands?"

The young Saiyan checked his nails before looking back up to inspect his father's handiwork. The female certainly was frightened. She'd chosen the wrong man to mess with. That was for sure.

"Jus…" the female gurgled, "Ne… ded… hap… m…mo…er."

"What was that? Oh, right. Yes, of course," the man said. "You're mother. She was killed." He smirked. "By me."

The female used whatever strength she could muster and spat a mouthful of blood into the man's face. He didn't look too pleased, but he didn't snap, surprisingly. He wiped it off with one hand, leaving a thin trail of blood left behind on his skin.

"And you were here to figure out if there was any way to get me to confess? Is that it?" He smiled. "Well, let me tell you something. I can do whatever I want. And even if I did want to announce my actions to the universe, do you really believe that the death of some queen of some backwater planet would really mean anything to anyone?" He got closer to her face. "Do you think the death of some princess means anything?" He grabbed her throat again as the light began to leave her eyes. She was defeated. She was defeated right from the start. She would fall unconscious now, and then the Saiyan brute would just kill her and be done with it.

The young Saiyan turned and started to walk away, but his father called him back.

"What?" he asked, turning just in time to see the girl's neck get snapped to one side. Her jaw was almost in line with her spine as her lifeless eyes glazed over, pointing towards the ceiling. The young Saiyan glanced up for a moment, as if there might be something there he couldn't see.

"It's always best to torture whores with a kiss," the man said, wiping more blood off his face as he stood. "Women think that if a man shows them a little affection, that they're united in some ridiculous way," he spat some blood from his mouth onto the bed. "It's using a woman's only weapon against them."

The young Saiyan just laughed. He'd had enough whores by now to know how to deal with them properly. They would always try to assert dominance, but that was one of the first lessons his father taught him—if you can't assert dominance over a woman in bed, then you're nothing. You could never amount to anything. And that kind of pointless affection was a woman's only weapon.

Too bad it never worked on him.

"That's all they do," his father snorted. "These putrid women… they try to act all feeble and innocent to hide their true intentions. She would have killed me if she ever had the chance. Just like your fucking mother."

The young Saiyan twitched, but he pushed his thoughts aside. He didn't care about that anymore.

"Now they're both where they belong. Rotting in hell for their scheming, mischievous nature. They can't help it. Women are all the same. It's too bad she wasn't smart enough to know not to use her tongue," he chuckled. "Then maybe I would have gotten her upper lip before she bled out…"

"Too bad…"

"Listen to me, son. There are women who you'll meet in your life that are more scheming than others. These are the ones you'll have to kill. Do you understand me?"

"Like my mother," he said blankly.

"Yes, like your mother. Like this stupid brat," he waved his hand over the bed. She seemed like just a puddle of blood now. "They'll think they have some kind of power over you, but it's all in your head. As long as you stay in control, you can accomplish anything. You can have ultimate power. Letting a woman get into your head will _ruin_ you."

"I have no issues with killing, father."

"Good."

There was a long pause. Neither of the Saiyans looked at each other until the silence was broken.

"At least you got to have a little fun out of her, first," he said to his father.

"It was like fucking a toy. She barely moved. Boring… but at least the ending was entertaining."

There was a slight pause. "You ruined your bed."

"The best sex is the kind that requires me to burn my mattress when it's over, don't you think?"

"It just seems like a lot of work to me…"

The older Saiyan barked out a laugh, his eyes squeezing shut. "You'll change your mind in a few years, my boy. Once you learn how much fun you can have with a woman before she dies. I hear you've simply been fucking them. You don't even bring them close to death, much less kill them when you're finished."

"If I started acting like you, father, the castle would quickly run out of whores."

"Hmm."

"And I've found that it's more fun to keep them around. Then they can be trained to do whatever I want. And I hate having to re-train whores. It's like fucking a nervous virgin."

The man laughed again. "But virgins are delicacies. They don't know what to expect. Everyone else… they think they know everything. They think they've seen everything. But you can never match a woman who looks you up and down with genuine curiosity. When you look into a woman's eyes and you know that she secretly craves being fucked for the first time. Sure, whore's can act it out, but a virgin has no choice. That's the thrill of it." He smirked and glanced over at the body on his bloody mattress. "That princess-whore… She thought she knew what she was doing. She probably worked up her confidence after fucking a few soldiers and thought she knew how to handle a man. But like I said… she was boring."

The young Saiyan looked away. He was finished here.

"Maybe I'll ask for someone new tonight, then," he muttered, and turned towards the door. He started walking, hoping his father would just let him go without another word. Thankfully, he wasn't stopped. All these lessons were eating into his time. He had a lot of training left to do, anyway…

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Immediately, Vegeta grabbed her by the throat and pulled back. She gasped as her eyes went wide. God, what did she just do? Her mind pictured the hysteric girl from before, screaming that the prince was going to kill her for simply trying to kiss him. Oh, god. What was wrong with her?

But something else was off. He didn't look angry at all. In fact, he looked… startled. Like she'd just slapped him across the face and it hadn't settled in yet. But he was pushing down on her windpipe and she could barely breathe.

She slowly brought her hand up and placed it over his, on her throat. He didn't move, except for a slight narrowing of his eyes. Was he going to kill her now? She couldn't breathe and she tried not to panic. She knew that would only make this worse. God, she had to apologize. She had to tell him that it was an accident.

An accident? How the hell do you accidentally kiss someone? She couldn't just say she tripped, or twitched and her mouth landed on his. But now her thoughts were frantic, and she hadn't gotten a breath in a few seconds. His hand wasn't loosening, either.

"V… Vege—"

"Get up!" he suddenly shouted, releasing her and quickly getting off the bed. Bulma coughed for a few moments, taking some time to rub her sore neck muscles before she got a head rush. When she thought everything was fine, she rolled over and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Vegeta was already out of the room, and past the table. He whipped around before she stood and pointed at the bags in front of the door. Oh, right… Her belongings were here. And the food she brought him was still on the table, barely touched. And probably cold by now.

"I want your things out of my sight!" he barked. "You're staying here for a while out of obligation, but that doesn't mean you can just act like you belong here, woman! Hide your things! I don't want to see them!" Bulma stood slowly. He was clearly acting crazy, but she didn't think he was going to hurt her, strangely. He still looked like she'd slapped him, to be honest… like a deer in headlights. "You'll take your meals elsewhere! Eat in the kitchen with that other Earthling! And you'll bathe in the guest rooms from now on!"

There was just something about him now, and Bulma realized that she wasn't afraid. His aura wasn't dark at all. He was pacing around too quickly for his usually composed attitude, and she didn't feel like she had to stay away from him right now. So, instead, she moved to grab her bags. And then a thought hit her—he was like a child, telling her not to use his things—the table, his bathroom… It almost made her giggle, but she hid her face and just grabbed the rope holding her bag shut. She only had her clothes in here. That was all she had, anyway. And it wasn't like she would miss a rag or two if something was missing. Her things weren't that important to her here.

She found herself fighting the urge to talk back to him. If he wasn't being overly-intimidating and she didn't feel afraid, then her inner nature would start to come out eventually. But then how would he react? Right now, there was something off about him, like he wasn't really paying any attention to her. He was just stomping around his room like a kid… It was actually a little unnerving to her, because she'd never seen him act this way before.

"Vegeta," she said. She couldn't help it. She wasn't even sure if being silent was the best thing to do or not. But he was acting so strange… Because of a kiss? That couldn't be right… especially because the other day he pushed her against a wall and… She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to remember that. But still, he couldn't be embarrassed. That was next to impossible. He fucked people every day. So, then… what was it?

" _What_?!" he shouted, finally deciding to take a seat instead of walking around the room. He started eating some of the cold food and Bulma got the feeling he wasn't paying attention to what he was putting in his mouth.

"Well… where should I put my things, then—?"

"I don't care!"

"But, you're the one who ordered for my room to be boarded up, so now I'm stuck here because of you. So, don't act like it wasn't you who gave the order."

He was sulking. He was actually sulking. Bulma huffed and crossed her arms. She shook her head at him.

"I have to go train," Vegeta finally said, relentlessly tapping his finger against the table. Then he seemed to nod once to himself and he stood.

"And where do you want me to put my stuff?" Bulma asked again, trying to push her point. But he wasn't answering her and she was getting a little annoyed. She unfolded her arms and placed them on her hips, taking a dangerous stance between the prince and his only way out. He looked at her and glared, but before he could say anything, and before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth. "What's wrong, you're not going to blast me like you did to that whore? She said she only _tried_ to kiss you and she ran away with a bleeding shoulder. So, you're just going to let me go free, then? No punishment this time, huh?"

"Do you want to be punished?" he seethed, taking a step forward and running his fingers along the side of her neck. Bulma stopped herself from shivering at his touch. He tugged once on her collar and she knew that was his threat.

" _Yes_ ," she breathed. And as soon as the word left her mouth, she knew she was in trouble. She just couldn't keep it together for five seconds. Not when he left himself open like this. And it was her own goddamn fault, too. Chichi always said that her mouth would get her killed one day. But once she started, she couldn't seem to stop. "Punish me, Vegeta. Punish me for kissing you!"

"You're just like the rest of them!" he suddenly shouted, his face less than an inch from hers. She closed her eyes, feeling his hot breath and a bit of saliva hit her face. But she opened her eyes when his breathing slowed.

"What does that even mean?" she asked. "Because sometimes… I don't feel like I'm like the rest. So, if you're going to punish me, then do it. Because you do it to everyone else, and you've done it to me before." Vegeta clenched his teeth and continued glaring, but he wasn't saying anything. "So, maybe, when you say that I'm just like the rest… you're just trying to convince yourself that it's true…"

"And what?" he finally said, a dangerous smirk on his face, "You think that I treat you differently than I treat my whores?" He laughed and Bulma frowned. "Because you're not a whore? Because you won't admit that you want me to fuck you, yet you jump in bed with me every night anyway? Maybe you're the one trying to convince yourself of something. Not me."

"So, what happens if I admit it, then?" Bulma asked boldly, standing up straighter and looking him in the eye. She could have sworn she saw his eye twitch. "What if I say that for some god-awful reason, I think I care about you. I never wanted to. It wasn't planned. And if I could stop this feeling, then I absolutely would. But I'll admit it, because I'm not a _coward_ … There's… something about you… that I… like…"

Bulma felt her face flush and immediately looked down. What was she saying? Was this the heat of the moment or something else?

"Thank you," she added quickly, "For saving my friend yesterday. And for… letting me stay here. I think… with everything that's happened, I would be afraid to stay in my room alone at night. And… I'm sorry for hurting you yesterday. I don't think I was really… in control of what my body was doing. I just saw Chichi and I—"

Vegeta slammed his hand against the wall beside her head and Bulma yelped, looking up at him again. He was glaring again, but his aura still wasn't pitch black, so she found herself staring right back, like he was putting her in some kind of a trance.

"A coward, hmm?" he said slowly, and his voice broke the trance. Bulma looked away again, but she felt him grab her chin and force her face forward. And just as she was about to look him in the eye again, his lips met hers and his lids shut. Immediately, Bulma's eyes closed and she froze, her hands at her sides.

He didn't touch her. His hands and forearms stayed on the wall around her, and his body stayed a couple inches or so back. It was just his mouth on hers, and he was a lot gentler than anything Bulma had ever imagined. She had always expected anything the prince did with women to be rough, but this was calming, for both of them. And they stayed that way for a couple minutes. Bulma got a bit more comfortable after breathing with him for that time and she slowly dared to bring one hand up. She didn't know what she wanted to do, but her hand ended up between them, high up on his stomach. She could feel his abs. She could feel the bottom of his rib cage. She moved her other hand to wrap around his waist, but she let her fingers rest on his side, just barely pulling him towards her, enough for him to feel it but have no forceful effect. She opened her eyes and jumped when his were lidded. Without thinking, she pushed on his stomach and broke their contact. She panted, even though she hadn't been breathing hard until now.

"I… I'm sorry," she said quickly, knowing her cheeks must be bright pink, "I… I've never kissed anyone before, so I… I don't know…" she trailed off, and she couldn't stop herself from looking away again. She heard Vegeta sigh as he stepped back.

"I need to train," he said quickly, and Bulma could only look up when she heard the door shut behind him.

Oh, god. He was mad, right? He had to be mad. She must have done something wrong… Her first kiss. Oh, god. He was definitely mad. She hadn't even done anything. Oh, no. She couldn't remember if she'd parted her lips. Oh, god. Was she supposed to open her mouth? How wide? Wasn't that weird? He didn't even _say_ anything? She didn't know what to do. Did he expect her to know what to do? Was he expecting her to do something? What about now? Oh, god. She'd just stood there. Did he think she didn't want to? Did he think she regretted it? _Did_ she regret it? His lips had been so soft. She could still taste him when she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth… She just kissed the prince… He'd just kissed her back…

Oh, god…

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"No, I just… I don't want to be around them right now," Bulma said, sinking to the floor of the laundry room. She watched as Launch eyed her like she was a misbehaving pet. "And what's that look for?! You think I'm not already confused enough?!"

Her blonde friend shrugged slowly as she continued folding giant white towels. She dropped a folded towel on top of her small pile and held up her hands.

"I just don't know what to say. You obviously know the prince better than me. Hell, you probably know him better than most of the people in the castle. Maybe that says something, but I have no idea."

"I just… If I go to the kitchens now, I'm going to get an earful from those two. They're going to start saying things that I really don't want to hear right now."

"Then what do you want to hear, Bulma?" she asked, lifting another towel.

"I want… I want to rewind time and take it back."

"So, you wish he never kissed you?"

"No!" she started, "Well… I mean, I don't know."

"Was it good?"

"Launch!"

"I'm just asking."

Bulma crossed her arms for a second before uncrossing them and grabbing her hair, pulling on it until it hurt. She let her hair go and groaned before falling backwards into another pile of laundry. She hoped it was a clean pile, but probably not.

"Yea, it was good… I think. I wouldn't even know. I've never kissed a guy before."

"Did he think it was good?"

"How should I know? I'm just going to feel like I can never look at him again."

"I may not know the prince very well, but from your history with him, I'm pretty sure that would just make him mad."

"Yea… But what do I even do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, how am I supposed to act around him?"

"I don't know. Do whatever comes naturally, I guess."

"No, thank you. That's what got me in this mess to begin with." Bulma pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged herself on the floor. "Launch, have you ever kissed a guy before?"

"Yea, a few times."

"And what happened?"

"Uh… Nothing happened."

"But how did you guys act after?"

"I don't know. We just acted like we kissed. You know… we did it again a few more times. And once I came to the castle, I left all those guys behind."

"So… I should try and kiss him again?" Bulma asked, shocked.

"I mean… that's not like a rule or anything, Bulma. It's a complicated topic. I don't even know what happened. I don't know what was going through the prince's head or even yours. Maybe it's just best to talk about it with him…" Launch frowned when Bulma shook her head. "Maybe you're right about that one. I doubt the prince is much for talking about these kinds of things."

"And what about that whole deal where he kills people that try to kiss him? I'm not _dead_ , Launch! Maybe he's planning on how he's going to do it when I get home…"

"Well… that one girl isn't dead either. She just got shot in the arm or something, right?"

"That's not helping…"

"I'm just saying that maybe it's just a rumor. Maybe it's true he doesn't like to kiss people, but not that he kills people who try. And you _have_ lived around this guy for three years. Is it _that_ hard to believe that he doesn't have some special feelings towards you? If anything, this whole incident should shed some light on that question, at least."

"But what if he regrets it?"

"Now you're just sulking… That statement clearly says that you hope he doesn't regret it, right?" Bulma reluctantly nodded. "The only things you can be certain about right now are how you feel and what you want to do now."

"But I don't know either of those things."

"You don't want him to regret kissing you, so you like him, right?"

"I don't know!"

"Isn't that what you told him?"

"I was in the moment!"

Launch sighed.

"And there's something else!" Bulma said. "And it's been bothering me. A few days ago, he made me… he made me…" She flushed and lowered her voice. "He made me… touch him."

"What?"

"You know… I told you about how he made me lay next to him when he was with that one woman, but this was after… The next morning, I woke up and… that happened."

" _What_ happened?" Launch lifted an eyebrow.

"You're really going to make me say it?"

"I legit have no idea what you mean. Like, he made you feel up his abs?" she giggled.

"No! He… pinned me against a wall and made me touch… _it_."

"His dick?"

Bulma screeched and covered her ears. Launch just laughed again. Bulma shot upright again, pursing her lips. She glared at her friend for a split second.

"But… when I was… you know…"

"Please don't tell me you jerked him off."

"What? No! I just… held it for a second." Launch laughed again, but managed to cover her mouth and mumble an apology. "But… I just got the feeling that… Something was off with him then. Any other girl and he would have just done whatever he wanted, but he ended up getting aggravated and…"

"So… he _wants_ you to touch him," she laughed. Bulma rolled her eyes.

"I'm not joking."

"Neither am I, Bulma. It sounds like he sexually frustrated if he's acting like that."

"That's stupid. He sleeps with like… a million girls a day. And stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry! It's just… a little obvious from the outside looking in. Maybe I can see where Chichi and Maron were coming from now."

"Not you, too!"

"I think… that you don't have to worry about him killing you for kissing him," she smirked. "And I think that… if you don't regret anything, and only if you want to… then maybe you should try to kiss him again. Because from an outsider's point of view… I don't think you have much to worry about right now. Of course, if he starts acting weird, like violent or something, then you should back off. But honestly, Bulma, it sounds like he wants to sleep with you." She couldn't stop herself from laughing again and Bulma made an irritated noise. "And he's probably acting out because you don't want to."

"That's right, I don't!"

"So, kissing him probably confused him at first, but then he was probably thinking that he'll take whatever he can get from you." She winked.

"That's terrible… He can have whatever he wants from practically anyone else."

"Except for you," she added, wiggling her finger.

"Well, everyone knows that if he wants something from someone, he'll just take it by force. Maybe I just caught him off guard and he decided to go along with it because he was bored…" She lowered her eyes.

" _Or_ ," Launch stressed, "He doesn't want to force you to do anything."

"Yea, right. That'll be the day." She sat up again. "He's already forced me to clean up after him for three years. Fetching his food and making his bed. He forced me to lay down without my collar on for so long I almost got crushed to death. He forced me to watch while he slept with some prostitute. He forced me back when I was trying to save Chichi..."

"Granted, everyone knows the prince is a ruthless asshole."

"You don't have to put it like that…"

"And now you're defending him!"

Bulma huffed and stood. "You know what? Maybe I will go to the kitchen, after all. Because the wonderful prince has now _forced_ me to move into his room, but I'm not allowed to use _his_ facilities or eat at _his_ table. So, now, I have to eat in the kitchens every day. I can't even have the privacy of my own room."

"You know, that could just be because of what's going to happen to all of us in a month. It's not lying if I say that one of the safest places to be is next to the second most powerful person on the planet."

"I'm not even in danger until a month from now."

"Maybe he wants to spend more time with you," she joked.

"I literally see him all day anyway. I clean his freaking room. He just took away my only escape from him. Now I'm stuck. He just likes to watch me suffer. He's sick and twisted down to his core."

"But you still like him."

"If anything, it's only because he saves me when he's the one that puts me in danger to begin with." She sighed. "It's all a big, fat trick. It's a game to him. I just have to get my thoughts straightened out before I lose it for good."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

It had been a few days. Bulma was stressing about everything, even though it seemed like the prince didn't care enough to even glance at her since it happened. She'd barely seen him to begin with—not that she wanted to. If anything, she just wanted the awkwardness to be gone from her daily life. But every time she heard footsteps or each time someone took a breath, she would freeze up and think that he was finally coming to her with something to say… But he never did.

Vegeta was off training like his life depended on it. In fact, he barely even came back to his room. For the past three nights, Bulma slept in his bed, alone. And to be honest, she had no idea where he was sleeping, because she was near his bedroom for most of her days, now that she had nowhere else to go. And that made her stress even more, because if he wasn't sleeping in his bed… then he was probably with someone else…

Not like she cared. It was just a kiss, and certainly not a big deal in the life of the royal sex machine. He slept with at least one woman a day, and just because he kissed her… or she kissed him, or whatever… that didn't mean that anything was different between them. She knew what all her friends had to say about the whole ordeal, but she knew the prince better than anyone. And she knew that a kiss like that, no matter what it meant to her, meant nothing to him. And there was no going around that.

A few days ago, thinking about the fact that she'd had her first kiss with someone who genuinely didn't care made her sad. She almost cried a couple times, but that was over now. She knew how this was going to go. He was off sleeping around because he didn't want to see her. He probably regretted the whole thing, and she knew better than to try and hunt him down to talk about it. Maybe if it had been something more serious… But it was just a kiss… She had to keep reminding herself that for someone who had sex all the time, it wasn't a big deal. Whether it was a big deal or not for her didn't even matter. Even if it was her first kiss…

She always pictured everything romantic like that with Yamcha, but ever since she saw him in the throne room, everything was different. Her whole mindset changed. That wasn't a fantasy that would ever come true. Anything thoughts she had about Yamcha now were either frightening or sad. The things he might be forced to do to her scared her out of her mind, but she also thought about what must have been done to him these past three years… Especially because he looked so terrifying for someone apparently kept hidden away for years.

Meanwhile, she'd been bringing Vegeta his usual three meals a day, only to have to clean them up after he never came home to eat. She was really starting to wonder where he was going. He came back twice to shower and quickly leave again, and both times he completely ignored her. He even went so far as not looking at her when he walked by. He was pretending she didn't exist. He had to feel regret… Because the alternative was much worse. She didn't know how she would feel if it turned out he just didn't care, so much that he forgot all about it…

She knew that should be what she wished for. If anything, she should want him to forget all about it and move on like nothing happened between them. But since she didn't know for sure, she couldn't mentally prepare for that. It would bother her incessantly until she knew what he was thinking. But then it just turned into a loop because she couldn't just ask him what he thought, either. She was just playing a waiting game—seeing what she could find out without having to interact with him. But it was getting harder and harder the more he wasn't around. She couldn't even see his face, much less try and talk to him.

A knock came from the door and for once she didn't jump at the intruding sound. She quickly moved to stand in the doorway but composed herself for a few seconds before turning the handle and opening it fully. She looked up to find a man in general Saiyan garb standing at the threshold. He wore a bland expression, like he had better things to do, but only after he saw her standing there.

"Is the prince here?" he asked, and Bulma just shook her head. "Do you know where he is?" She shook her head again. "Hmm… Well, if you see him, tell him that the Warkinds are here to meet with the royal family. It is urgent."

"The prince hasn't been here all day, and I'm not sure when he'll return—"

"Tell my father I'll be there shortly," Vegeta barked, coming up quickly from the left hall. He wore a towel around his shoulders and hurried past Bulma, nearly knocking her over and, as expected, ignoring her completely. "Prepare me a shower!" he shouted to her from his bedchambers. The Saiyan man nodded low and hurried off, leaving Bulma alone with him again. She reluctantly closed the door.

As soon as she turned, he walked right past her, and she had to stop herself from yelping as she almost slammed right into him. He bent down and grabbed something out of a drawer before walking back again and slamming the doubles doors behind him.

Bulma stared at the doors for a moment. He must truly hate her… And she had no idea why. If she'd done something wrong, she would rather just be punished than ignored like this. She had so many questions. Her mind was moving in a hundred different directions and he was the only one who could put her thoughts to rest. She was just so confused… Did that kiss ruin everything? How?

She sighed and lowered her eyes to the ground, feeling sad for a moment. Then she gathered up her emotions into a tight, little ball and headed for the shower. She prepared it a little slower than usual, thinking that maybe he'd come out and yell at her for not being fast enough… But he only swung open the doors and breezed past her when she was finished. He seemed aggravated with her now, too. She had to lower her eyes to the floor again as she listened to him step under the running water. He'd even closed the door to the shower… He never did that.

A big part of her wanted to wait for him to emerge and force him to talk to her. It would be simple and easy—she would just ask him a direct question. And if he ignored her, she could just ask him why he wasn't answering. He wasn't the type to ignore her if she was irritating him like that.

But before she could work up the nerve, she heard the water turn off and she headed out for a walk, making sure to close the door silently behind her. He would probably be happy to see her gone when he stepped out anyway. She convinced herself that she was doing him a favor and strolled down the hall.

She hadn't been down this way since four days ago. Her room had been down here, and she wanted to see what they'd done to it. She knew that Vegeta had asked the guards to board it over, but she hadn't been down here to see it. And she wanted to waste time now, so she figured it was a good time-killer.

It only took a few minutes to reach it, but there was nothing there. She stared at the wall, freshly painted, where her doorway used to be. Why was it necessary to destroy her room like this? Couldn't she have just moved out and they left it alone? Now it was just an empty wall, and she was surprised to find herself quite depressed about it. This was her home. For the past three years, this is where she ate and slept and changed and she'd grown to love it. Now… now she was stuck living with the prince and sleeping in his bed. God, she wondered how much he regretted that decision right about now. He must hate her living there more than she did. She was practically hijacking his bed for the past few nights. It was a little silly that he didn't just kick her out, rather than sleep somewhere else, though.

"You'll do as you're told! Do you hear me?!" a screech came from further down the hall. Bulma narrowed her eyes in the dim light down the hall. Someone had to relight the candelabras down here. It was way too dark for her Earthling eyes. But either way, she quietly walked further down the hall, towards the guest rooms.

She listened to some inaudible whimpering before the screeching came back, louder than before.

"This is for the good of our people, and all you can think about is yourself! How dare you! You are going to be the queen of our home! Sacrifices must be made!" There was another moment of soft sounds and Bulma realized that someone else was talking, lowly. She tried to creep closer without her footsteps getting too loud. "When he asks it of you, you will go to him and do exactly as he says! Do you understand me?! This isn't about you!"

"… scared," She finally heard the second voice. It sounded like a child.

"Of course you are. This is new to you," the screeching voice said, becoming pacifying. Bulma frowned and got a little closer to the doorway. She held her hand over her mouth to mask the sounds of her breathing. The door was open and she stood right outside, her back against the wall. "You have the opportunity to do something great with your life right now. You will not waste this chance. Do you know how I know that?" There was a pause. "Because if you don't start acting as I've taught you, you won't be going home. Ever." There was another pause, and Bulma thought she heard sobbing. "I've made sure that you know exactly what to do to please him. You will not be of high standing, but you will make yourself one of his favorites. And once you do, our people will thrive and our planet will flourish. You will be our savior and our future queen. But first, you must stop acting like a spoiled brat! You can't expect to get whatever you want!"

"What if… hurts me?" the other voice quietly asked.

"Never show your tears, little one. Never cry in front of these people. If you want to cry, you wait and do it alone, in silence. This… This way you're acting now. I won't tolerate it any longer. Do you hear me? Dry your tears. If I ever see them again, I'll give you a _real_ reason to cry."

Bulma heard footsteps suddenly nearly the door too fast and she jumped and sprinted back down the hall. She didn't bother to look back and she ran around a corner, casting a fleeting glance at the bare wall where her door used to be. She slowed, but still jogged on her way back to the prince's room. Vegeta probably wouldn't be finished just yet, so she continued jogging until she neared the kitchens. She pushed open the back door a crack and peered inside. Maron's head of blue hair was the first thing she saw, and she suddenly lost her urge to waste time here. If Chichi wasn't around, she didn't really feel like talking to Maron. She considered heading to the laundry room, but for some reason, she found herself not wanting to talk to anyone right now, strangely enough.

She dragged her feet, taking her time on her slow walk back to the prince's room—her room. She couldn't call it that and take herself seriously. She knew she'd be kicked out relatively soon anyway, so it was only a matter of time before she got a new place to stay. Her things were still in her bags in the corner of the prince's main living area, almost completely out of sight, as he'd demanded.

She stood outside the familiar door for a moment before opening it and stepping inside, but only to come face-to-face with the prince. She jumped and quickly apologized, moving to get out of the way. But she moved too quickly, thinking he would be rushing to get away like she was, and her movements seemed like she was trying to push past him. When he noticed, he characteristically stood his ground and let out a slight growl. Bulma paused in reply and took a quick step back, lowering her eyes.

"S-Sorry," she whispered, and then added, "My Lord."

He moved to walk past her, but stopped halfway, and Bulma remained very still, unsure which direction she should be going. She kept her eyes on the floor between her feet as she waited to see where he stepped. But he didn't move, either, and eventually she had to look up at him. She met his eyes and quickly looked away anyway. Why was he staring at her? She tried to find something else to look at and ended up noticing that he'd finally eaten the food she'd placed on the table.

Almost a minute had gone by and she didn't know what to do. He was still in her way and unmoving. She didn't dare to look up to see if he was still staring at her. But it was uncomfortable and she was confused.

"Sorry," she whispered again, shuffling her feet in one direction. Maybe if she could just slide past him—

He grabbed her arm and she yelped, raising her eyes to meet his again. But he didn't say anything, and despite the amount of time she'd been standing in one spot with him, her mind was mostly blank. She couldn't think of anything. But she remembered the kiss, and it made her blush and look away again. She hated how she couldn't hold his gaze, like a frightened kitten.

But then she started to think. And as she thought, she became more and more aggravated. Who did he think he was, anyway? He couldn't just stand in front of her and try and intimidate her like some kind of arrogant brute! She immediately frowned and glared at him.

"Where have you been, anyway?" she barked, and his lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn't been expecting anything from her. "Not that you'll ever hear me complain about having a giant bed to myself, but do you know how much food you've wasted over the past few days alone? You could practically feed an army! The least you could do is tell me when you'll be home for meals and when you won't, so the kitchen staff doesn't have to run around for nothing and I don't have to throw everything out after it sits on the table for hours at a time!"

He simply lifted an eyebrow at her, which pissed her off even more.

"And why are you standing in the doorway? Are you lost or something? You need me to find you a map or you want me to get your mommy to hold your hand before you leave you room?"

He squeezed her arm a little tighter and she winced.

"Wow, I say something you don't like and you hurt me? That must make you a _real_ man…" She glowered at him. "If you just came back to shower and eat, you should be on your way now. I kind of like having your room to myself. It's almost like _I'm_ the prince, isn't it? I wonder what that makes you, then—"

Bulma saw the room spin as he turned her and slammed her back against the door as he closed it and dragged her inside. Bulma gasped for air, but quickly narrowed her eyes at him. She was about to fight, but he dragged her arms above her head and held them in place. He shoved one leg between hers and pushed up. Hard. She screeched, but he wasn't hurting her. She was more shocked to suddenly feel his knee rub against her there. She flushed, but held onto her angry expression.

"First of all," he said, and his voice was strangely calm for how she'd just spoken to him, "What I do and where I go are none of your business. Second, I allow you to sleep in my bed, but the moment I want you on the floor, that's where you'll be. And third, you and the kitchen staff will continue to prepare my meals, whether or not I am present to eat them. Because that is your job—to serve me. You have no other purpose here, or anywhere."

"And is kissing me one of your jobs?" she retorted without thinking. He lifted an eyebrow again.

"Like I said, what I do is none of your business."

"Considering I was on the receiving end of that one, I'm pretty sure it _is_ my business."

"So, what about it?"

"W…What?" Bulma frowned. Was he really asking her? "Well… why? Why would you even do that?"

Vegeta just shrugged, making her frown deepen. She wouldn't stand here, pinned against the wall by him, feeling his leg between her thighs, and let him get to her this way. If he truly didn't care, then she would accept that… But that was impossible, right? There was no way that it was meaningless to him… Not after how much she'd stressed over it…

"Please answer me," she said slowly. "Why did you do it?"

In the next second, his mouth was on hers again, and his hand was dangerously close to creeping up her shirt. She was going to squirm, but her wide eyes noticed that his weren't closed, either. He was staring right at her again. And he broke the quick kiss without ever shutting them, and she remained frozen in place. Then, he shrugged again.

"I did it because I felt like it," he said, and Bulma gulped. He truly didn't care…? "So… _what about it_?"

She bit her lips to stop herself from getting upset. She moved her gaze away from him, but he held her chin with his free hand and brought his face closer. She had no choice but to look at him again. And he was smirking… She felt like crying, but she wasn't going to let him win.

"You're terrible…" she whispered. All she wanted was for this to be resolved. She wanted some peace of mind, and all he was doing was confusing her more. Why do it again? Why say something so cruel? What was he trying to prove? She couldn't believe that it really meant nothing to him. She couldn't… "Well, it meant something to me," she said weakly, partially hoping he wouldn't hear her say it. "So, if you don't mind… Could you just go back to ignoring me? Because I can't figure out what you want me to do, and… I don't know. I don't even know what I'm thinking anymore. Maybe it'll be better when this month is over and I'll leave to go take care of some unborn child or something."

"Leave?" he suddenly growled. "You think that when that filth dumps his seed into you, I'm just going to let you leave? Your body may be invaluable to my father, but you'll still have work to do here. I won't allow you to just go where you please when you're still physically able to continue your work. If you want even an hour to yourself, you'll need to ask for my permission first."

"You would make a pregnant woman work?" Bulma asked flatly, speaking more hypothetically than anything. She still couldn't picture herself having a child, despite everything she knew. But the prince was giving her a strange smirk and she continued to frown at him. He was deplorable.

"Maybe the filth won't be able to," he said, pushing her harder against the wall. "Or maybe it'll take him ten times to finally give you what you want."

"What I _want_?" Bulma barked, nearly laughing. "You're kidding me, right? I _really_ hope you're kidding."

"Maybe he won't know _how_ ," Vegeta smirked.

"Oh, please. Everyone knows how," she spat, and she watched his face turn from borderline-angry to playfully sly. She narrowed her eyes, feeling like she played right into a trap he'd set.

"Do _you_ know how?" he asked, and she groaned. So, that's what he was getting at. She rolled her eyes at him. "No? Maybe I'll teach you, then." He suddenly pushed his knee up higher against her sensitive center and rolled it around. Bulma gasped and squirmed but he held her in place with just his one hand. Although, she felt as if he'd chained her whole body up. She couldn't fight a Saiyan's strength.

At first, she thought he'd stop after a couple motions, but he didn't, and she began to listen to her own breaths turn into pants. She convinced herself it was because she was squirming to get away, rather than the terrifying alternative.

"Vegeta," she softly said through quick breaths. "No…" When he pulled up on her wrists, her feet slowly lifted off the ground a bit, putting more of her weight in her center, right on his thigh now, still moving slowly back and forth on her. She could feel the pit of her stomach stretching and convulsing and she whimpered at things she'd never felt before. What the hell was he doing to her?

And then he leaned forward and shoved his mouth on top of hers. This time she watched his eyes close and she couldn't stop hers from closing, too. But only for a moment, as his thigh hit something that made her jump and violently turn her head away.

"Stop!" she panicked, shouted at the air above them, but he took the opportunity to bite at her neck as she tilted her head up at the strange feeling. She shouted out again, but this time without words. She couldn't even think of words right now. She tried kicking her legs, but every time she moved them, more of her weight added to the pressure on that one spot, and she really needed him to stop moving his leg down there. Something about it was doing things to her body and her brain. And it didn't feel right at all. It felt very, very wrong. " _Stop_!" she shouted again, forcing her head back down, forcing him to remove his mouth from whatever he'd been doing on her neck. She couldn't even register half of the things happening to her with what was going on down below. The feeling was overwhelming.

But it ended quickly. He released her and backed away a second before a knock came from the door. Bulma hoped that he'd let her go because she told him to, and not just because someone was at the door. She was starting to wonder if eventually he would just force himself on her and be done with it all. She hoped not, from the bottom of her heart. But now, she wasn't too sure about anything anymore. A month ago, if someone had told her that the prince would kiss her and push her up against a wall, she would have laughed it off as a joke. But now… she wasn't sure what his intentions were, and it scared the hell out of her. She couldn't even imagine what he wanted from her anymore… She used to think she was just kept around to clean up after him…

Vegeta opened the door after a second knock, probably after he realized that Bulma was too frozen in place to realize how long she was standing there, much less react to someone on the other side of the door.

"The negotiations have begun, my Liege," the man at the door said, bowing low, even with the floor. "The king has requested that you come immediately. I believe he is awaiting your arrival before they begin." He kept his eyes on the ground and waited for a response, but Bulma didn't hear anything from the prince. "The… The Warkinds are also present. The king and queen were not able to attend, but they sent the queen's youngest sister and the princess to complete the deals. There are several others… as a sign of good faith for their terms."

Vegeta scoffed. "They sent young females to negotiate? Why isn't the king able to attend?"

Bulma finally looked up when she listened to the inaudible reply of the man, just before the door shut and Vegeta was already gone.

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"And he up and left? Just like that?"

Bulma sat in a chair against the closest wall, watching Chichi work on some large piece of flattened dough. Maron was behind her, at another counter, measuring liquids. Goku was helping out, but he went out to gather some things for Chichi.

"It's not like I was expecting him to stay…" Bulma said, and then rolled her eyes. "Every time I come in here, you make me talk about Vegeta. Can we change the subject, please?"

"Well, it's not like I bring him up and you're not eager to talk about him," Chichi laughed.

"Yea, but it's because he does something stupid or crazy to me every day now, it seems. And I need to talk about these things, or else I feel like I might explode."

"Or it's because you _like_ _him_ ," Maron sang.

"Like who?" Goku asked, walking into the room with several large boxes in his arms, stacked almost over his eyes. He looked over the tall carboard to Maron.

"Bulma likes the prince," she said quickly, and Bulma gawked.

"Vegeta?" he asked plainly, tilting his head and setting the boxes down on the floor. He picked one up and placed it in front of Chichi, who silently thanked him with a smile. Then, Goku turned to her. "Good for you," he said, giving her a quick smile and going back to rearranging the boxes on the counters, as if the statement wasn't a huge and utter lie. Bulma frowned at him.

"What does that even mean? "Good for you." No, it's not good for me. He's terrible!"

"He's not that bad," Goku replied simply.

"You know him?" Maron asked, her ears perking up. "Do you spend a lot of time with him? Maybe you could put in a good word for Bulma, here."

"No, thank you!"

"Huh? We used to train together when we were kids. He was always so competitive, and he took everything so seriously. I guess that hasn't changed much, though…" he trailed off, ripping a long piece of tape from one of the boxes. He looked at Chichi. "What are all these for anyway?"

"They're having some big meeting down in the banquet hall with the king and some other species. They requested that we prepare a large meal. This is what I had on such short notice."

"Oh, right. The Warkinds meeting was today. I completely forgot." Chichi lifted an eyebrow at the Saiyan and he continued, "Their people were stronger than we thought, and our king decided that we'd lose too many soldiers trying to conquer their planet. So instead, he offered for them to come here and make a few requests in exchange for peace and cooperation. But I'm not sure what else the king wants from this. He's never big on just letting other planets go like that. I'm curious to find out how the negotiations go."

"That's where Vegeta went."

"Well, yea. The royal family should be present as a sign of respect. Just because Saiyans like to act like we rule the universe, that doesn't mean we can disregard things like that all the time," Goku laughed.

"So, what are they doing, exactly?" Maron piped in, putting a pause on her work. Chichi threw her a glance and she slowly got back to preparing the food, but absentmindedly. "I mean, what do you think they could even _do_? I doubt King Vegeta would just bow his head and let them walk all over him. They must know that whatever demands they make better be simple and… well, not insulting."

"I don't really know the details," Goku frowned at her. "Sorry."

"We are going to deliver food to the banquet hall in a bit," she said, her expression turning sly. "We can find out what's going on when we present the food. I'm sure they'll all be sitting around the table, right? We can just work slow and listen in. Maybe we'll hear some good gossip!"

" _Or_ ," Chichi said, "The king will get annoyed and have you executed for working so slowly."

"It's not like I'd make it _obvious_ that I'm moving slow, Chichi," she spat. "I'm not that dumb." Bulma had to roll her eyes at that comment.

"Please keep working on the dough for those cheese puffs," Chichi scowled. "You can work slow in the banquet hall, but not in here. We're on a time limit. If we're late, the king will have us both executed anyway."

"Where's the banquet hall?" Bulma suddenly asked, realizing that as they were talking about this whole thing, she had no idea where it was. She never even knew that they had a banquet hall in the castle. In fact, there were probably a lot of things in the castle that she didn't know about.

"It's a little while past the entrance to the medical wing," Chichi said, "But way before the dungeons' entrance."

"Dungeons?" Bulma frowned. Maybe she'd need to give herself a tour of this place. She knew there were dungeons under the first floor, but she never saw them or the entrance to them. And she certainly never went looking for them. The fact that she never knew there was a banquet hall was a little infuriating, though. But it was true that most of her job as the prince's chambermaid took place in the same small area of the castle. She'd been to the throne room and the laundry room, but that was as far out of the way as she'd gone. Other than that, the medical wing and the kitchens were a straight shot down the hall. She'd never thought to go any further. She was always afraid of getting lost.

"I only know about them because the prisoners down there have to be fed, but they never let me much past the top of the steps," Chichi added. "And it's not like I'd ever want to go down there anyway. Once, I had to go halfway down the stairway to hand the food platters to a guard, and I heard screaming. I got so scared that I ran all the way back to the kitchen."

"I wonder what's down there," Maron said with a smile, lifting her eyebrows.

"You don't want to go down there. Trust me," Goku said. Bulma could tell that Maron was about to ask why, but something in Goku's expression stopped her, and the four of them went silent for a few moments. She involuntarily pictured people crying for help on a wet, stone floor. She didn't know much about torture, but her mind did its best to imagine splatters of blood, before she shook her head to clear her mind. She would take Goku's word for it.

"Done," Maron said. "I'm just going to top them with blueberry filling and they'll be ready to go. Maybe another couple minutes."

"Goku, are you coming?" Chichi asked, and he nodded.

"I have plenty of time before they need me back at the training house."

"If you don't mind me asking," Bulma said, "Goku, what do you do around here besides train?"

"He's a tutor," Chichi said with a smile.

"Yea, I help train the little Saiyans. Saiyan parents send their children to the training house for most of their younger years. Once they graduate, they can choose their own paths. Most choose the military. But some don't want that. The king wants all Saiyans, even the cooks and servers, to have a basic knowledge of fighting and offensive tactics. That's why our species is so strong. Because no matter what happens, every single one of us, even the children, can fight better than most elite soldiers from any other planet. Our bodies are made for it. So, if anyone attacks us or declares war, there are no weak links. They can't take easy hostages or attempt mass murder, because everyone can hold their own. My job is to make sure of that, especially for the children. Everyone knows that if a war starts, the children will be targeted. So, I teach them self-defense, mostly."

"That's…" Bulma trailed off. "That's really cool actually. I wasn't expecting that."

Goku shrugged, but he hid a shy smile. Bulma hid her own, too. Chichi wasn't hiding anything.

"There!" Maron shouted, wiping her brow with her forearm. "Ready to go?"

Chichi wrapped up what she'd been making and added it to giant cart. "Bulma, are you coming?"

"Of course she is!" Maron said, grabbing her arm and dragging her along. "She wants to come spy on Vegeta with us!"

"What? No, I—"

Goku's laugh cut her off and she looked to Chichi for help, but her black-haired friend was laughing, too. How was it that they didn't understand just how bad the prince could be? Why was it, that they could laugh and joke about it the way they did? And Goku… didn't even bat an eye when Maron made her comment, before. She felt like she was missing something. She felt like they understood something that she just wasn't getting.

Getting a rush of courage and flare, she figured it couldn't be such a bad idea to go with them. She wouldn't even have to talk to Vegeta, if he was busy. Maybe she could even hide by the door, and he wouldn't even see her. Maybe then she would be able to understand what her friends kept talking about. Or maybe she could finally prove to them that they were wrong. The prince and her… Vegeta and her… That was just crazy, after all.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve:**

Bulma gulped.

Maron had dragged her and Goku over to an opening in the wall while Chichi set the table for the first course of the royal families' meal. They watched them through the opening as Chichi flawless glided through the seating and made sure not a fork or napkin was out of place. She was truly good at her job here, Bulma mused. But just as she was promised, Vegeta was sitting in full view, his back to her while he sat at the large, rectangular table. The king sat at the head, and three women sat on the side opposite of Vegeta. One was a middle-aged woman. The other was a young girl, and the last was an elderly woman. Bulma noted that she looked extremely frail. She also noticed how the so-called "Warkinds" resembled people from her own planet. They had pale-pink skin with dark hair. Their limbs and general stature were almost exact to Earthlings and Saiyans, as well.

"Why aren't you in there helping her?" Maron suddenly asked, narrowing her eyes at Goku, who stood behind them, also watching the meeting through the opening.

"Uh…," he looked down, "I would have, but… I don't think the king would react well to seeing me help Chichi with her kitchen work after… after what happened. I just didn't want to cause a scene in front of the guests."

"Are you sure you didn't want the king making fun of you for doing kitchen work?" Maron smirked.

"There's nothing shameful about being able to cook. To be honest, the king has probably never cooked a meal in his life, so if anything, I'm proud to be able to do something he can't do. And I only know what I do because Chichi taught me a few things, so—"

"Oh, shh! They're saying something!" Maron hushed, cutting him off. Bulma almost rolled her eyes, but instead she kept them glued on the table. It was the king who spoke first, probably to relieve some of the tension. Chichi was still gliding around the table with decorations, this time. They barely noticed her, which she was sure everyone was thankful for.

"We've already had our greetings," the king said bluntly. "Now, please enjoy this meal our servants have prepared for you, and we may discuss the terms at your leisure."

"I mean no offense, you Highness, but we do not have time for leisure as your people do," the middle-aged Warkind spoke, and Bulma found herself holding her breath. Did she actually think she could speak to the king that way and not be in trouble? But as she waited in dead silence, the king made no move, nor expression. Wasn't he angry?

"Of course," he finally spoke, and his voice was calm. "Then please begin." He motioned for Chichi, and Bulma's heart almost leapt out of her stomach. Chichi seemed to understand what he wanted, though, and she did a slight bow before rushing out of the room. She hurried over to them around the corner, but everyone remained silent. The opening wasn't soundproof, at all. And if the king knew they were spying on the meeting, they might all be dead.

"Maron," Chichi whispered, motioning for her to come over to her. " _Food_. _Now_ ," she mouthed, and Maron nodded and headed over, tiptoeing to their cart and grabbing a few things. "Remember what I taught you," Bulma heard Chichi say, before they both disappeared around the corner again. She was left with Goku, who just kept watching. She didn't want to break the silence, so she watched alongside him.

"As I'm sure you're well aware," the middle-aged woman spoke loudly and firmly, "Many of our women were raped to death by your soldiers when you invaded our planet for the first time, two years ago." There was so much venom behind her words, and Bulma just waited until the king couldn't take it anymore. But the large, terrifying man stayed quiet and, strangely enough, submissive to the woman while she spoke. "Some of those women were fortunate enough to live through the ordeal. But many survivors killed themselves," she spat. "But some did not… And a small number of them ended up with child."

"If you are asking for support for those children, I will gladly offer compensation. They will never go hungry or want for anything in the world," the king said, folding his hands together on the table.

"That's… not what I had in mind… In fact, these children are a blessing to my people. At barely two years old, some of these children are stronger than out soldiers, faster than our messengers, and more intelligent than our dedicated scholars. I must say, that the Warkind-Saiyan offspring are… remarkable."

"Just state your terms, woman," the king grumbled. "I don't have time for games." He sounded so much like Vegeta, Bulma thought. That was definitely where he got it from… Like father, like son.

"I am here in place of my sister, the queen. And she has instructed me to outline these terms for you. Not only will you take financial responsibility of the already-born half-breeds, but you will also provide us with Saiyan males to impregnate more of our women. My queen desires more of these spectacular and brilliant children to brighten our planet's future."

"It will be done," the king said, frowning.

"But that is not all," the woman continued with a smirk. She had something over the king… But what was it? Bulma couldn't figure it out. Why would the king act so submissive? It certainly wasn't like him, and she'd never seen him this way before. "That was only the frosting on the cake. My queen made one very specific demand, and she instructed me that this term is non-negotiable." There was silence for a moment as the woman made sure everyone was listening. Maron and Chichi stood near the door, looking at the ground and pretending not to listen. No one was paying attention to kitchen servants, anyway. Bulma's eyes were glued to the woman's mouth.

"Well?" the king pressed. "Tell me what the queen has requested."

"You must understand that your attack on our planet was uncalled for and oh, what a surprise to the royal family to suddenly find a Saiyan army on your front porch one morning. You must forgive me for saying this, but a small, meager meal and some chit-chat simply isn't enough for my queen to accept your peoples' apology. For all she knows, we could sign a treaty, and tomorrow you may as well attack us again. Simply put, we must have something valuable… Let's say, a reason for you not to attack us anymore."

"State your terms, woman," the king glowered. And there it was, Bulma thought. The king wasn't going to stand for this kind of underhanded insulting for much longer.

The woman smiled and waved her hand over the girl sitting beside her. "This," she said proudly, "is the oldest princess to the king and queen. By right, she will one day be the queen of the Warkinds, as well. And in order to establish everlasting peace between our peoples, we must have a unison of some kind between us. A connection, so to speak."

"What kind of connection?" the king asked, but Bulma already knew what the woman's demands were going to be. She watched them, barely noticing that she was holding her breath.

"There is no need for silly ceremonies, or unnecessary bonding. The queen has requested that the next prince or princess, after her daughter, be a noble half-breed, with strength, speed and intelligence like no other king or queen before her."

"We have plenty of elites and nobles," the king replied, narrowing his eyes, "You may have your pick of them."

"Oh, but you know that won't be good enough. For a princess… we must have a prince," the woman smiled. "The queen has requested that your _son_ be the father of her new successor."

"That's ridiculous," the king spat. "I will not have _my_ father's blood running through that… that _child_!"

And for the first time, Bulma looked at the child sitting quietly beside the arrogant woman with the chip on her shoulder. She was small… she couldn't be much older than fourteen, if these people aged the same as Earthlings. She swung her legs back and forth under the table and stared at her folded hands in her lap. She wore a pink dress and a frightened expression. This was insane… this woman was asking for Vegeta to… and to a _child_ …

"Oh, yes you will. Because if you do not, my queen will retaliate against your people with all the force of our planet and her people. And all-out war with us will certainly result in a devastating destruction of both our populations. So much, that it would take centuries to rebuild our empires to what they once were. And maybe for next time, you'll do some research before attacking a planet that you _assume_ is weak and frail. You made your mistakes, _King Vegeta_ ," she mocked. "Now, you must submit to our demands to make peace. That is your only option."

There was more silence, until the king finally stood. "Very well. It will be done." The woman nodded at him once. "But," he growled, "If you want a half-Saiyan child, that's one thing. But you're asking for my blood. My father's blood. The blood of the royal family of this planet. That is not something you should take lightly, because I certainly will not. As this child grows, I will be constantly informed of its progress."

"It will live on my planet and grow as a Warkind. It will have little-to-nothing to do with your planet or your people. We will not have the future leader of our people growing up to be a savage, relentless brute. We will, of course, enlighten her as to her background and what her Saiyan half means. But she will, by no means, be interacting with Saiyans in her daily life. You may be kept knowledgeable about her growth, but that does not mean that my queen will allow you to be a part of her life."

"You do understand that by right, a half-breed would also be in line for the throne of Planet Vegeta," the king glowered. "For that very reason, the child will be stripped of all rights on this planet. It will not be welcomed here with open arms as I'm sure your queen is hoping. The child will have no power over my planet or my people."

"I did not speak with her of such things. But, it is her understand that you would not attack a planet ruled by your own blood. If you can give me your word on this, then we can get started on the minor details of this arrangement."

The king slightly nodded, but Bulma noted that it seemed like a struggle to him. She also noticed that Vegeta hadn't said a word this entire time. Was he just here for show? Did he truly have no power in front of his father. This definitely involved him, so… She wondered if he would say anything, or if he had to be spoken to first…

"Very well," the woman smiled, suddenly waving her hand over to the elderly Warkind. Bulma had almost forgotten about the other woman. She was still as a statue. "This is my mother, the last queen, recently stepped down. While I must go home after these negotiations, she will stay here with the princess to watch over her, and make sure that these details are strictly followed. If they are deviated from, she will send word, and… well, you know the consequences of breaking our agreement here. I don't need to re-state them to you, I'm sure." She snickered, and Bulma was surprised the king didn't take her head off then and there.

"How old is this child?" the king asked, more curious than concerned. His eyes finally landed on the girl and Bulma looked away in disgust for a quick second.

"She will be turning thirteen in a few months."

Bulma gawked. So, the Warkinds _did_ age the same as Earthlings… But thirteen years old… This was wrong in so many ways. She had to stop herself from barging into the room and screaming at all of them for their insanity.

"And my son will give her a child? Are you sure she can take that kind of physical stress? It would be a shame if she were to just… _die_."

"She is of age to be with child," the woman replied, skipping right over the king's insulting comment. "The likelihood of a Warkind and Saiyan's breeding to be successful is slightly lower than average, which is why I will be leaving her here with the previous queen. That is all you need to know. Once she is impregnated, we will take her, and the child's birth will not be of your concern anymore. We will inform you of its gender and nothing more, at first. Then, we will simply keep you updated on its growth and progress throughout the years. And if you have specific questions, we will decide how to answer your requests at the time when they occur."

"Anything else?" the king asked, his frown still in place. Bulma didn't know how the women weren't even a little frightened by him. She assumed that if they weren't bluffing about their ability to fight like the Saiyans, then maybe they had no reason to fear him… That would be something. She was a bit envious of them for a moment—being able to fight back the way she did. Bulma could only picture herself like that, fighting for her planet and her people. If only she'd had that power… But she'd never ask for something like this.

"I will take my leave of this planet shortly. I will report back to my beloved queen and if she has anymore demands, I will send them to my mother, who will relay the messages to you. All you have to worry about is following up on the agreements we made here today." And for the first time, the woman looked at Vegeta. She gave him an arrogant smile and nodded once at him. Bulma couldn't see if he responded or not with an expression, but he didn't move from his seat when she regarded him. "A shame I couldn't enjoy the meal," she added haughtily, lifting her nose and turning to walk out the door. She walked right by Maron and Chichi like they were lamp posts. At least, they could have passed for statues for the way they never moved.

Bulma stood frozen, still staring through the opening, even after the woman left the hall. Vegeta and his father both remained where they were, the king standing angrily, staring at the two who remained, and Vegeta in his seat. She couldn't tell what he was doing from this angle, or what his expression was. She couldn't even guess, either. And to be honest, she wasn't sure if he would actually see something wrong with this arrangement. He was a sick monster… She knew from three years of experience. But would he really do this to a thirteen year-old child?

"I'll be watching her," the elderly Warkind suddenly barked, and Bulma instantly recognized the woman's voice. It was the same one she'd heard in the hallway earlier in the day. She'd been the woman screaming at the child… But what had she been talking about, again? Bulma could only remember the screeching and the child getting upset. But then that child must have been the Warkind princess, too. She'd been so upset… Did she not want to do this? Was she being forced into this arrangement, as well? That was terrible…

"I'm sure you will," the king retorted, motioning for Chichi once again. And for some reason, Bulma's black-haired friend and Maron immediately began cleaning up the table. They hadn't even eaten any food. All that preparation and cooking had been for nothing. Bulma wondered if that happened a lot… She hoped everything wouldn't just get thrown out. Maybe she could have some of the leftovers…

"I will follow her to where you will impregnate her. I will examine the room to make sure that the Saiyan prince is truly the father. If you try anything—"

"Yes, yes. All-out war, correct?" the king sneered. He treated this old woman differently than the other. He wasn't concerned or wary anymore. These were people he didn't care for, and he clearly wasn't afraid to show it to their faces.

"Very well, we shall step outside. When the prince is ready, we will start tonight. He may take her to his room and bed her there as many times as she is capable. I will accompany them to inspect the chambers and the environment and I will leave once I have been satisfied with what I see there. No toys or machines are to be used on the princess. Is that understood? I've heard of your son's… fetishes in the bedroom, as I'm sure half the universe is aware of it, as well." The woman shot Vegeta a glare, but still, Bulma didn't see him move or hear him respond. And after a few more moments, she nodded, grabbed the princess by her upper arm, and dragged her out the door. The young girl didn't make a sound, and simply obeyed.

There was another brief moment of silence until Chichi and Maron finally cleaned up and left the room. Then he turned to Vegeta and smirked. "You'll do this. Give the young brat a half-Saiyan child. But once the old hag leaves," he said, "I want you to make the princess suffer for her people's insolence."

At that, Bulma finally saw Vegeta move, and she stood frozen, staring at the back of his head as he nodded to his father…

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"There's just no way," she breathed, once the four of them were back in the kitchen. Thankfully, Chichi was saving all the food. "I have to sleep in that room, you know! And if he even lays one fucking hand on that little girl, I'm going to kill him myself!"

"I… don't think you can…"

"She's not serious, Goku," Chichi sighed. "But she's right. He can't sleep with a girl who's barely even a teenager yet. They said she's _turning_ thirteen soon, which means that is a twelve year-old girl that the old lady just offered up to one of the most ruthless people in the universe."

"Well, can't we have Goku do something about it?" Maron said, and Chichi shot her a glare. "I mean… we're all Earthlings… We can't stand up to anyone around here. And if we try anything, they'll just kill us. But Goku is a Saiyan, too. Can't you do something?" She eyed the tall man, while Chichi still glared at Maron. She didn't have anything to say in response, though.

"I… I can't go against the king. I'll be exiled, if not executed. I don't think there's anyone on this planet who can stand up to the king. Maybe no one in the universe. And even if there was, it's not like the king would just bow his head and listen. He's a ruthless fighter and a heartless ruler. He would die before listening to anything someone like me had to say. If he's made this decision… there's really nothing anyone can do about it."

"What about the prince?" Maron piped in. "Didn't you say you were friends when you were kids? Can't you try to talk to him?"

"That was a long time ago, and we weren't even that close. I'd be surprised if he even remembers me, now. I could try to talk to him, but I think I'd just get on his bad side and make more trouble for the princess. He's the same as his father. No one can talk to either of them without risking their heads."

"What about Bulma?" Maron asked, and her question was followed by a long period of silence. Chichi stopped wrapping the food and looked over at her. Maron just blinked a few times, staring at Bulma, and Goku stood there in thought. Bulma was silent, as well. And all of them were staring at her.

" _What_?" she suddenly spat out. "You're… joking, right? What _about_ me?"

"Well… you and the prince have been… getting along recently, haven't you?"

" _Getting along_?"

"Bulma…," Chichi frowned. "You have to at least try… That girl… You know I'd do something if I could, but I can't. I just work in the kitchens and no one would ever listen to me. But you talk to the prince, and he has to care about you somewhere in that black heart of his, otherwise he wouldn't treat you the way that he does. You have to at least _try_ to talk him out of this. If not because you think it'll work, then just try for the sake of that girl."

"But… if the king finds out that I tried to stop this from happening… He would kill me, too."

"That's why you have the best chance. Because Vegeta doesn't want you to get hurt, so he wouldn't tell the king if you tried to stop him."

Bulma held back a sarcastic laugh. "I can't believe you think that I could actually do something. Vegeta won't listen to me! He's never listened to me! Anything I tell him, he just does whatever he wants!"

"You have to _try_!" Chichi screamed, and more silence followed.

"And what am I supposed to even say to him?" Bulma frowned, lowering his eyes, "I can't just walk into the room and say, "Hey, Vegeta, don't you think it's terrible of you to force a little girl to sleep with you? Maybe you should just not do it, and then go tell your father that it's wrong, too. How does that sound?" Yea, right. Anything I say will get me killed."

"You could… negotiate with him," Maron said lowly.

"I have nothing to negotiate _with_ , Maron," Bulma growled.

"Well… I mean… Everyone can see that he wants to sleep with you. You could take the girl's place—"

"Fuck off, Maron! I'm not sleeping with him!"

"Okay, maybe that's not the best way to go about this," Chichi shouted, getting between the two of them and holding her hands out. "Bulma," she said sternly, "We don't have time for this. That lady said that this is happening tonight. That means that they could already be in the room. We're not telling you to do anything. All I'm saying, is that you can at least try to talk him out of this. Say things he'll understand, like how a younger girl won't be as good as someone older and ask him if he wants you to call for a whore, instead. Something like that, even. It's better than nothing, okay?"

"Wait," Goku said, holding up one hand. "We're not even supposed to _know_ any of this… Bulma can't just walk into the room an act like she'd been _watching_ the entire meeting. She would have to pretend that she doesn't know what's going on."

"That makes it easier," Maron said, "Just distract him, then. If he wants you, then it shouldn't be too hard to keep his mind off of a girl who's butt and boobs aren't even fully grown in yet. She was flat as a pancake. He wouldn't even care about her if you showed him a little cleavage or something."

"That's disgusting." Bulma looked at the ground.

"Either way, we don't have time to stand around here and argue about it. Vegeta might even get suspicious if you don't go back to his room for a while, so you should get going. Goku, you needed to head back for the training house's night shift, right? And Maron, if you help me wrap this food, we can make some dinner trays really quick and then we're done. The sun is almost down now, anyway. And Bulma, I'll deliver the prince's dinner tray tonight, since you'll be preoccupied. I'll leave it in front of the door and I'll knock once, okay?"

Bulma nodded. And she watched as Goku gave Chichi a quick kiss, waved goodbye to Maron, and gave Bulma a small smile before heading out the door. Bulma stood there for a moment. She didn't even know what to say anymore. Chichi gave her a sympathetic smile, but she didn't have it in her to say anything else to her friend. So, Bulma just looked away as she turned and headed out the door.

This was crazy. Everything about this was crazy.

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Bulma paused for a moment as she passed by the medical wing, looking far down the hall. Was that where Chichi said the entrance to the dungeons was? Was there really an elaborate basement under the castle? And just how big was the castle? A part of her wanted to explore, but she knew she had something more important to do now, so she put her curiosity in the back of her mind. She would tend to that later.

She walked right up to the prince's chamber door and pulled out her key. But just before she could unlock the door, it swung open and the elderly Warkind stood in front of her with a nasty scowl.

"And who the hell are you?" she spat, nearly stomping on Bulma's foot as she pushed her way around her and out the door. "No whores are allowed in this room until the prince has done his duty to my people! How many times do I have to repeat myself?!"

"Uh…" Bulma stammered. "I—I'm not… a whore," she frowned. "I'm the prince's chambermaid."

"Let her in," she heard Vegeta's voice come from inside.

"She's not to touch the princess!" the old woman shouted, and Vegeta came around the corner and stood in the doorway, an inch from Bulma. Fortunately, he was ignoring her for now.

"She won't. She's here to clean and prepare dinner. That's all."

The old woman scoffed again before turning on her heel and storming off, probably to a guest room or something. Bulma immediately looked up at Vegeta. Before she could start talking to him about this… this issue… she would have to get him to talk about it first, because she wasn't supposed to know anything… And the last thing she wanted was for him to find out that she'd been spying on him.

She noticed the way he was looking at her now, eye's fixed on hers, and suddenly she remembered something. The last time he saw her, he'd kissed her again. She'd had time to watch him and do other things and talk to other people, but for the prince… Maybe he thought he'd been on her mind since earlier in the day. Or maybe she'd been on his mind…

He lifted an eyebrow at her and she crossed her arms.

" _What_?" she scowled, and he smirked at her. That was a good sign. So far, so good. But just as she tried coming up with something to start the conversation, the Warkind princess stepped lightly out of the prince's bedchambers. She wore a thin nightgown that dragged on the floor. She couldn't have been much taller than Bulma's shoulders. "Wh—Who's that?" Bulma asked, seeing as she'd have to be more direct than originally planned. The princess was here, in the prince's room. And by the sound of the old woman, Vegeta was expected to… do it… _tonight_.

"It doesn't matter," Vegeta finally replied, and before Bulma could ask another question to get him to talk, he grabbed the door and slammed it shut behind her. She jumped, and he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back into the wall beside the doorframe. Bulma gasped as the air was knocked out of her, but before she could even think, his mouth was on hers and he kissed her a bit harder than usual. His hands stayed on her shoulders, holding her against the wall.

Bulma had no idea what stirred inside of her, but she raised her hands and pummeled Vegeta with a flurry of punches to his chest. She knew he'd barely feel a thing, but her lack of enthusiasm was enough to make him pull back. She panted and groaned in his face.

"Will you _cut it out_?!" she screeched. "Stop kissing me! You can't do this anymore! Do you _hear me_?!"

"You don't tell me what I can and can't do, woman," he said flatly. The fact that his breathing was normal while she was breathing hard made her even more furious. How was he not affected by anything? That's why this needed to stop, anyway. He wasn't affected by her. He didn't care…

"Well, you still need to stop!" she shouted, not caring that she might have spit in his face a little when she raised her voice. "I have to do my job, and this… you doing this is very…" Distracting, is what she wanted to say. Prince Vegeta was far, far from unattractive, and when he did these things… It was distracting, at the least. But it was also a mix of things. She didn't know how to describe it, but if anything, it just confused her.

"What if I don't want to?" he asked, and she hated that he was being playful right now. Why was he always in a semi-good mood when she was trying to be serious?

He leaned forward and kissed her again, this time well aware that she was trying to push him back. She struggled, but he ignored her and forced his mouth to stay over hers. His lips were warm and his breath was cool…

" _Stop_!" she screamed, getting a hand free above his head and whacking his face. She didn't do any damage, but he frowned and pulled back again, staring at her. His expression was blank, and Bulma realized that the princess was watching them from the edge of the prince's bed. Her expression was blank, too.

"Why?" he suddenly asked, his playfulness gone in a heartbeat.

"Why what?"

"Why should I stop?" He quickly looked her up and down. "Your body reacts well to mine." He lifted an eyebrow, as if a lightbulb just went off in his head. "You don't actually want me to stop. And yet you fight me anyway. Why?"

"I…," Bulma trailed off.

"You started this," he said with a shrug, and she cursed herself for forcing a kiss on him to begin with. God, what was she thinking? "Which means that you wanted it. And you still do. So, stop fighting me."

"I can't…" Bulma turned her head away when he leaned forward again. He nuzzled his mouth into her hair instead and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Why not?" he whispered, making her nearly shiver. She couldn't think of anything to say, but now his hands were roaming around her waist and she had to think of something or he'd think her silence was submission. She forced her eyes open and pushed against him again. Harder, this time.

"Because this means _nothing_ to you!" she shouted, twisting and turning to break free. She almost had it for a second, but he grabbed her shoulders again and held her in place. "And that's not who I am, Vegeta! I'm not going to be another one of your nighttime prostitutes! I'm not someone you can just mess around with! If you want to play around with someone, there are plenty of other women in the castle that would love to do… whatever it is you like to do, okay?!"

He was silent for a moment, but then he smirked. "Right now, I don't want someone else."

"I really don't care what you want," Bulma said, looking away again. "I'm not going to be another conquest for you. I'm not going to sleep with you and then go back to changing your sheets and setting your table. I'm not just some… some _convenience_!" She gathered herself together. Shouting wasn't going to help her here. "Listen… you just _think_ that you want to do this because I spend a lot of time here… But the thing is, you just want _someone_. It doesn't matter who it is. You mind has just… latched onto what's right in front of you. That's it. So, if you need that kind of… _relief_ … then there are plenty of women I can call for you. That's part of my job, and I don't mind doing that. Not at all. But you can't keep thrusting your unchecked needs onto me because I'm here all the time. Okay?"

His face had turned sour. He wasn't smirking. He wasn't even frowning. In fact, he seemed a bit disgusted with her. And the strangest part was that it was what she thought she'd wanted. This was the reaction she'd been waiting for, and yet, for some reason... it hurt. Although it was better for her if he looked at her this way, she found herself wishing that he'd stop.

"Vegeta…," she said with a sigh, but when she opened her mouth to continue, there was nothing else she could say.

There were thoughts and feeling behind her, but nothing came out from between her parted lips. Whatever she thought she wanted to say, she couldn't think of it, and she certainly wasn't saying anything anytime soon. Her mind was cluttered with so many different things. This was just the frosting on the cake.

"Who's that?" she asked, pointing to the princess again. Even though the situation took a strange turn, she still had a job to do, and Chichi would be furious with her if she didn't try harder than she was.

"Why do you care?" Vegeta sneered, finally releasing her and walking over towards his bed. Bulma's mind raced. What if he asked her to leave them alone? What if she had to reveal that she knew everything so that she could try and stop him.

"I… don't. I'm just wondering why there's a girl in your room. Am I going to have to start bringing an extra plate to the table? How long is she staying? Are you related or something?"

"Stop babbling, woman," he said flatly, turning away from her. He was going towards the bed again. It looked like he was about to close the double doors. "This is no concern of yours."

"Vegeta!" Bulma shouted, and he paused to turn and look at her again. And she knew this was her last chance. If she didn't stop him here, he would close the doors and she would be separated from the princess. There would be nothing left for her to do.

Without thinking, she walked right up to him and kissed him. Hard. She placed her hands on the sides of his arms and did her best not to think too much about what she was doing. She stood on her tip toes for leverage and pushed herself into him. She shoved her chest into his, just like she'd seen the whores usually do when they first arrived to greet him.

"What was that about not wanting to be… convenient?" he asked, pushing her back slightly. She was relieved to find his smirk back on his face. "Tell me what you want, woman."

"I want…" She trailed off, searching her mind for an acceptable answer. She wanted him to tell her about this girl. She wanted him to let her go free, back to her planet. She wanted him to tell her… what the hell was going on. "I want… I want you… to stop _confusing_ me," she whispered. It was pitiful, she thought—the way she acted around him recently. She felt like a child. He turned her into some naïve, jumbled person, and she didn't like it at all. She hated feeling like she had no control, not even of herself.

"You're confused because you're lying," he replied. "And you're trying so hard to be truthful to your lies that you're getting confused by the truth, and aggravated because you can't keep up with what you've been saying and thinking, and the difference between the two."

"I have… no idea what that means," Bulma frowned.

"First of all," he said, leaning back towards her and brushing his lips on hers. She shivered, and then mentally slapped herself for having no control. "You enjoy this." He smirked, breaking them apart but keeping his face close to hers. "Stop telling yourself that you don't want it. And second of all, maybe you don't know this, but Earthling females give off a very unique and natural aroma. You, particularly, have a _very_ strong scent to you."

"W-What does that have to do with—"

"Did you really think you could stand that close to me, with no barrier between us, and I wouldn't notice you hiding at my back?"

"I… I don't know what you're—"

"You were there. With the kitchen wench and Kakarot. You listened to everything, so you know exactly who the Warkind princess is. And your sentimental Earthling morals are probably screaming at you right now, aren't they? Otherwise, you wouldn't be trying so hard to get me to talk about her."

Bulma just frowned, not caring very much that he knew the whole time. "Then you know you can't do what they want you to."

"I do whatever I want, woman. You know that."

"I won't let you, then."

His smirk was back. He gave her a try-me look as he crossed his arms lightly across his chest. Then he looked her up and down, slowly, taking in all of her with his eyes. She flushed.

"Lucky for you and your worthless morals, I don't want young females. I much prefer…" He continued looking at her and she wanted to slap him for it. But if anything, she was happy his attention was on her instead. And for once in her life, she was glad she had some kind of curve to her body. If she'd been flat, maybe he would have seen her as younger anyway, and less appealing… She shook her head. Why would she be thinking about something so stupid right now?

"Yea, I've _seen_ what you prefer," she suddenly said, regretfully remembering all the big-breasted, curvaceous, model-status women that came to him almost every day.

"You," Vegeta said, suddenly motioning to the princess. He moved his hand out of the bedchambers and motioned for her. "Step out here and wait until I tell you otherwise."

The princess obeyed without question, stepping down out of the bedchambers and walking over to the table. She turned and faced Vegeta, but he had his back to her, facing Bulma instead, still wearing that devilish smirk.

"Maybe I'll share my bed with you tonight," he said, waving for her to go ahead of him.

"Oh, no you don't," she grumbled, "I'm not getting in there with you. Besides, Chichi said she'd deliver your meal in a few minutes and that was a few minutes ago, so it should be here any second now. You're going to eat, and then go train, or do whatever it is you do after you have dinner. Hopefully, I will be fast asleep by the time you get back. And if you wake me up, I'm going to be _very_ angry. You hear me?"

Vegeta lifted a curious eyebrow, giving her a strange look. Bulma frowned again, not sure how to react. She'd never seen him look at her this way before. In fact, she'd never seen this expression on him ever. She couldn't figure out what it was, either. A mix of amusement and… pride? She couldn't put her finger on it, but again, she was just glad he wasn't scowling.

"I'm going out now, then," he said, turning for the door without another word. Bulma's jaw almost dropped at his obedience. "Have my dinner laid out by the time I get back." She nodded. "And, woman… If you're not asleep by the time I get back…" He looked over his shoulder as he opened the door and gave her another smirk, this one difference from the others—hiding something behind his words.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll be _fast_ asleep," she shot back, just before he closed the door behind him. "I've had a _long_ day."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

The princess was ignoring her.

Bulma sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what was wrong. Was the girl upset or angry? She wasn't revealing anything with her blank expression. She couldn't even tell if the young Warkind was annoyed or in pain or… anything.

"What's your name?" Bulma asked, trying once again to get the girl's attention. But yet again, she was ignored.

The girl was pretty and petite. She had a tan-ish skin tone with curly, brown-blue hair and bright blue eyes. She had a number of freckles on her high cheekbones and across her nose. Her eyes had natural, cloudy shading and perfectly long lashes. Her eyebrows looked perfect, as well as rosy, plump lips. It must be nice, Bulma thought, to wake up every morning and look like you spent two hours on your make up… not that she wore any of that stuff. But this girl made her wish she took more care in her appearance. This child made her feel like she looked the part of a chambermaid.

"You know," Bulma frowned, getting tired of being ignored. "Don't you have anything to say about this arrangement? Aren't you even a little scared to do this? I mean, you're a virgin, aren't you? You've never done this before and yet you have no complaints?"

And suddenly the little girl turned and looked at her with heated eyes. "Tell me what he's like in bed. Teach me what he enjoys."

Bumla gawked. "How the hell would I know? And I thought you were taught how to… you know."

"I was only taught what my people assumed from other Saiyan males. They taught me general things to please a man, but I need to make sure I'm prepared to make him happy."

"Seriously? You sound like you're crazy… How could you agree to something like this?"

"This is a noble sacrifice for my people. And it's not like I'm going to die. No one will hurt me, and my aunt and grandmother both told me that it will be enjoyable. Grandma told me that as long as I'm not tense or afraid, I will be able to enjoy myself. And Aunt Gemma told me that it's not every day that I can be with such a powerful and influential prince in this way."

"Yea… I still only hear crazy coming out of your mouth..."

"A servant like you wouldn't understand matters of state."

Bulma couldn't stop the laugh that came out of her mouth. "And a kid like you wouldn't understand anything about what's _really_ happening here, so why don't you just go home, because believe it or not, I'm trying to _help_ you. And to help you, I _swear_ , this so-called arrangement will _never_ happen."

"Are you jealous because you want him all for yourself?"

"Oh, _please_. Prince Vegeta the ruthless tyrant? Not to mention annoying as hell. And arrogant. And dumbfounding. Trust me, I wouldn't want him for myself even if I was about to die."

"But the way he kissed you when you came in here seemed quite urgent. And you did kiss him back."

Bulma felt a flush reach her cheeks. "This isn't even about me! This is about saving you from being stupid! I don't care about your aunt or grandma or whoever told you that you need to do this! It's not happening!"

"If the prince doesn't hold up his end of the bargain, my people will attack this planet and decimate everyone they find. And I'll be sure that you're included."

"Me? _Really_? What did I even do to deserve such extraordinary threats from a little princess?"

"If we were on my planet, I'd have my guards throw you in prison for talking to me that way."

"Good thing we're not then, huh?"

"I'm done talking nonsense with a slave. Leave me now."

"Sorry to break it to you, but I live here. I sleep here, too," Bulma let a devilish smirk cross her lips. "The prince asked me to sleep in his bed with him _permanently_. He even told me that he can't wait until you're gone so we can be _alone_ again." She mentally rolled her eyes at her own exaggeration, but the girl's face turned red and she immediately smiled.

"But you're a _servant_ ," the girl spat. "No matter how many times he invites you to his bed, you can only be his mistress. Only a _princess_ could truly stand at his side. It's unfortunate how little it would mean to anyone if someone were to just kill you… I doubt the prince would care. You're not even that pretty. He would just buy a new servant and start bedding her for fun, too. Probably with the hope that the next one wouldn't get so obnoxiously attached to him."

"If you're this much of a brat, I'd hate to see what other trash lives on your planet. It's a shame the Saiyans couldn't have just killed you all. It seems like the universe would have been better off—"

Bulma barely had time to blink before the girl was standing right in front of her. And when she did blink, the princess's small hand was wrapped around her throat, and Bulma gasped as the thin child lifted her a couple inches off the ground. Bulma grabbed for the girl's hands and clawed at her, moments before she was released and crumpled to the ground in a fit of coughs.

"I am royalty, you weakling," the small girl stated flatly. "While I am here, you will treat me as if I am part of the Saiyan royal family. You will listen by my every rule and you will listen to all my commands. You are now my servant, as well. Is that clear?" Bulma looked up and nodded only once. She hadn't realized this girl had that much power. She lifted her like she was lifting an empty plate. "Good. And my first rule is that you will not sleep in the prince's bed. You will sleep on the floor, like the dog you are. In fact, you will sleep under the table, and you may not have any meals while I am here. You will only eat what I give you. You may only eat my leftovers, after I have thrown them to the floor. And you may not stand and walk. If you want to go anywhere, you will crawl on your hands and knees." She strode past Bulma, still on the floor, and sat right on the edge of the large bed, staring down at her. She crossed her legs and crossed her arms. "Now, go sleep under the table, little doggie. I will sleep in the prince's bed tonight and wait for him to return to me. If I hear you make any noises, I'll come over there and squeeze your throat until you're unconscious and you can't bother me again. Understand, doggie?"

God, and she thought Vegeta was bad… She just nodded once again, holding in her will to fight back. She shoved her hands out in front of her and crawled to the table. She moved a chair out of the way and made her way underneath, putting it back in its place behind her. Then she turned and looked at the tiny tyrant. Her bright blue eyes were narrowed with her smile, and she dramatically fell backwards into the large bed, sprawling out on the sheets and tangling herself up in them. Bulma watched her for a minute longer before swallowing her pride and closing her eyes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was no way in hell she was ever going to be able to fall asleep under there.

After a couple hours of trying not to move or make any sounds, Bulma practically gave up on the idea of sleep. Against a hard floor, her back ached in places she didn't even know could feel discomfort. She had to move every few minutes so she wouldn't get a bruise or go numb. And every time she had to move, she wondered if she could do it without accidentally hitting the floor or a chair and annoying that small brat again. Ugh, she was going to pay for this.

But for now, Bulma heard soft snoring from behind the closed double doors, and she safely and quietly made her way out from under the table. She stood and stretched for a good, long minute, feeling the muscles in her back creak, and her elbows loosen. Her knees felt better off the ground and her legs were finally free to stretch out. She craned her neck to the right and then the left before stretching her shoulders back, hearing her spine crack softly a couple of times.

She wasn't sure when the prince would be back, but she knew she couldn't stay here any longer. She felt like she'd break in half if she stayed under the table any longer, and once she got out, if that girl woke up and saw her off the floor, she wasn't sure what she'd do to Bulma. And after the last attack, she wasn't too keen on finding out.

So, she tiptoed to the door and left the room without a sound, closing the door soundlessly behind her. She turned and looked down both sides of the hall, but no one was around… If something bad really happened with the princess, no one would have been around to help her. Bulma gulped, but decided to head towards the medical wing. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she remembered Chichi talking about different part of the palace, and the fact that Bulma lived here for over three years now and yet she was still unfamiliar with much of the exceptionally large building.

She wondered what she didn't know about. It was interesting for her to see the banquet hall for the first time, and enlightening. She'd had no idea about the room, and it made her feel a bit dumb, to be honest. As if there was no logical reason as to why she missed it all these years.

The medical wing was somewhere she'd been a number of times before, and if she went exploring, she was sure to be able to find her way back to the prince's room. However, she wasn't sure how she was going to get back inside… It would be even worse for her if the princess woke up to find her gone, or even as she walked in through the door. Maybe she just wouldn't go back… But Vegeta would certainly be pissed if she just went missing.

Bulma frowned at her own thoughts. He was the one who left her in there alone with the Warkind girl in the first place. So, he should be the one who must come find her later, when he needs something. Her job was to clean and serve, not to get abused by some child.

She stepped onto the white tiled floor of the medical hall and paused. She knew these rooms, for the most part. She knew where to bring someone who was injured. She knew where to go if the prince needed help. And she knew where the basic medicinal herbs were kept that she was allowed to just grab and go. But other than that, she'd always thought of the other doors as unimportant… Or at least not as important as the others. She also lifted her gaze to further down the hall—one of many places she knew she'd never been before. And this one, mostly because the candles on the walls were never lit. If she walked down there, it would all be dark. And total darkness to an Earthling in a Saiyan palace was never a good idea.

But Bulma was nothing if not bored, so she grabbed a plate and candle off the wall beside her and headed down the dark hall. It was still lit from the medical wing behind her once she'd noticed the white tiled floor turned to a dark reddish-brown marble. She kept the candle out in front of her and squinted her eyes to see better, and after what seemed like a minute or two of walking, the candle lit up a t-off in the hall. Bulma turned to the left and only saw more of the dark hallway. But to the right, the candles started up again further down.

She set the candle against the wall on the floor, leaving behind a light in case she had to turn back, and slowly made her way down the right hall, her eyes thanking her for the small light as she neared the lit area.

It took her less than a minute to figure out that she was heading towards a dead end… Which was odd because she'd never seen a dead-end hall in the palace before. Everything went around and around in circles. If you followed one hall, you'd always end up where you started, however long it would take. But then she noticed something against the left wall way at the end, and she found herself walking quickly towards it. The dark hall must have gotten to her, but she knew that she was alone. Any footsteps would have an echo, and hers were the only ones that made a sound.

She stopped at the dead end, seeing a wooden door and a metal handle. She paused for a moment and turned around, making sure her candle was still on the floor in the distance. But just as she turned, she saw a shadow coming up against the wall she'd set the flame against and her heart began to pound. She stayed quiet, but she was in the light, and someone coming around that corner would easily see her. She held her breath, but then she could hear the light echo of footsteps and she couldn't stop herself from quickly opening the door and sliding inside, closing it quickly behind her, careful not to make any noise that would echo and give herself away.

But when she closed the door, Bulma was surrounded again by total darkness and it was all she could do to hold onto the handle of the door. She was afraid if she let go, she'd never be able to find her way back. Her eyes wouldn't even be able to adjust in such complete darkness. She shuffled her feet in discomfort—and her ankle slipped off a step behind her. Bulma swung one hand out to catch her fall, and involuntarily released the door handle to stop herself from making any noise as she hit the ground. But she hadn't realized that a thin flight of stairs must have been behind her, because he put her hands out to catch her fall, and only met with air and a further drop. She stumbled down at least four steps, and froze as she finally caught herself, listening to the loud thump of her fall echo down… down… down… down…

"Who's there?" a rough voice crowed, and Bulma couldn't stop tears from entering her eyes. She heard footsteps sounding like metal on cement coming closer from down below and she scrambled to climb back up the steps and get out. But it was too dark, and she didn't know how many steps she'd fallen. And now she was echoing sobs and clamoring for everyone to hear as she reached out into the dark, desperately searching for the door handle.

It took her a moment, but suddenly she could make out the silhouettes of the steps, and she froze as light was coming closer to her.

"Hey, you!" that same deep voice angrily shouted, "Get over here!"

Bulma let out a scream as loud as she could manage and looked up, reaching for the door handle—

But not before the door swung open and the silhouette of a man stood before her. Half expecting someone else, Bulma screamed again as the new man reached for her.

"Come here!" the man behind her growled, grabbing her ankle and pulling her down a few steps. Bulma gasped as her back hit the edge of a step. "How'd you get in here?!" And before she could answer, the man in front of her took a step down and closed the door behind him. She saw his silhouette cross his large arms and look down at her before the light faded, and all that was left was the small flame from behind her. "Grab her front!" the man barked, and Bulma felt the two men lift her into the air and pull her arms and legs apart as they walked down the steps with her. Bulma screamed again.

" _Let me go!_ " She tried to squirm, but she didn't know what was happening. She tried to think fast. " _If you hurt me, Prince Vegeta will kill you!_ " Her throat stung from the volume of her own voice and she threw herself into a coughing fit.

"The prince?" the man holding her arms repeated, and both men paused. "Why would he kill us for doing our job? He sends us you wretches, and we punish you. That's our deal. He wouldn't lay a hand on any of us."

"I wasn't sent by anyone! I got lost! I was walking around and I just found myself here!"

The men started laughing and walking again, taking her down the steps with them. "Nice try, but we've heard that one a thousand times. You're going to have to be a little more creative than that, you little runt."

"Yea, instead of making up stories, why don't you tell us what you did to have the honor of our company, huh?"

"I didn't do anything! Let me go!"

"Squirming will only make it worse." The men laughed again.

"Please, I have to get back! I work for the prince!"

"Sure you do," the man behind me snickered. "What, were you a whore? He probably sent you down here because you didn't make him happy. Is that it?"

"I am not!"

"The last one used their teeth and he sent them here for three months, and then the death penalty. He's a sick fuck, but he's got style. I have to hand it to him. But I guess we'll have to see what he had planned for you. It's not every day we get a surprise visit, you know. I can't wait to find out what we get to do to you."

"Let's put her in the light. I have the feeling she's a pretty little thing," the other man said happily, and Bulma lifted her head to see more light from what looked to be the bottom of the staircase.

She could see a flat, gray floor, and a number of metal work-benches and tables. There were some large and small machines everywhere, but it wasn't anything she'd ever seen before. Some had large hooks and cushioned chairs. Some had glass pieces and overhead mechanics. Some were just strange-looking, like animal teeth and claws.

"Well, what do you know. She is a pretty one."

"I hope he gives us at least a month with her."

"First we need to find out if the prince actually sent her or not. Then we'll know what to do with her."

"I mean, there's only one reason people get sent down here to begin with, so there's really no reason to wait, now is there?"

Bulma's breathing was heavy, and she thought she was about to hyperventilate as they placed her squirming body onto one of the metal tables and strapped her down with ease. They had to be Saiyans, or at least have the strength of Saiyans, from the way they moved her around like a rag doll, despite her using all her strength to try and fight them, as futile as her attempts were.

"Now you behave, little mouse," the one man laughed. "We'll just prepare a room for you and be back in a few minutes." And then both men were gone from her view. Bulma twisted her head to look around, but she couldn't see anyone else. There were a couple faint lights around the table—one above a rusty sink, sticking out from the wall, another above a dirty countertop, and one more right above her head. It was far too faint to blind her, though.

Once Bulma managed to calm her breathing, she realized that she'd been making a lot of sound by herself, and there were actually noises coming from the distance as well. She couldn't tell where any halls could lead to in the dark past the table, but there must have been more than a couple, because she heard clamoring on her right, footsteps on her left, and what seemed like faint wailing somewhere far behind her, yet not in the direction she'd come from. Even worse, now she didn't even know which way the staircase was. If she'd been able to stand up and look around, she wasn't sure she'd be able to find her way back…

Just then, one of the two men came back into the faint light and smiled down at her. He had crooked, off-white teeth, and he didn't seem as friendly as he was trying to be. He grabbed for one of the straps holding down her hands and removed it. But he grabbed her wrist and held it, and Bulma knew better than to try and fight his death grip while she still had the rest of her tied down.

"All right, little mouse, we set up a room for you. You'll be nice and cozy. I turned on the air and you've even got a roommate to spend some quality time with you while we wait to hear back about your punishment." His words were like thorns. He used a tone that made it seem like he was being considerate, but Bulma could tell from the slight laughs that left his lips that he thought this was all a joke.

"I wasn't sent here," Bulma repeated. "There is no punishment. I got lost and ended up here. I'm not even supposed to be here! And if you do anything to me—"

"You'll _what_? Insult my _mother_?" He barked out a laugh. "Well go ahead! She was a whore anyway!" He gripped his stomach as he laughed, undoing her other hand and holding both her wrists painfully together above her head as he went to undoing her ankles.

Once she was free, Bulma had just started to squirm before something metallic and cold touched her throat and the man sneered. "One move and I'll cut you. Come nice and quiet so I don't have to clean your blood off the floor."

Bulma squirmed a bit, but not enough to anger him, and definitely not enough to get away as he dragged her off the table and she stood shaking on the floor. He pulled her from behind in the direction of one of the dark halls, and she realized that for sure, there was no ay she'd be able to find her way out on her own. And she was being led down the hall where the soft wails had been coming from. Now, however, everything was eerily quiet, save for some footsteps and banging noises down some other halls.

She felt like they walked for well over a couple minutes and then she was forcibly pulled back, painfully cracking one of her shoulders. It was still almost pitch black, but she could make out a few silhouettes down here. For instance, she knew she was still in a long hall, because she could just make out the stone walls beside her. But then there were metal bars on either side of her every few feet, but she couldn't see anything beyond them.

"I better get a damn good apology when you find out that you're making a big mistake," Bulma growled.

"Sure, little mouse. Whatever you say." She was released, but not before a metal-barred door was creaked open in front of her and she was shoved inside. She landed on her hands and knees and threw a hateful glare at the man behind her, smelling bad dirt in the air.

She heard the door close behind her and the footsteps of the large man as he walked away. His steps faded into the dark again and she was left alone. But once she couldn't hear walking anymore, some new sounds started to surface. There was breathing… across the hall. Panting, more like. And some shuffling. People were moving around… Or animals, or something. But there was movement, and suddenly a loud bang hit the metal bars to her right and Bulma screamed.

"Don't worry," a voice suddenly said, and it came from directly behind her. She jumped and whipped around, squinting her eyes in a desperate attempt to see something a little clearer. "He's in a different cell than us. He gets a little rowdy, but he's harmless as long as those bars stay between him and us."

"Who… Who are you?" Bulma shouted behind her.

"Wait… your voice…," the person behind her said nervously. "…Bulma?"

She froze. What…? Who…?

"Bulma, how did you get here? What happened to you? That rotten prince didn't send you down here, did he? What did you do?"

"Wh… Who…"

"It's _me_ ," he said. "Bulma, it's me. It's Yamcha."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen:**

"…and to be honest, I don't remember what happens once everything goes blurry… Bulma? Are you listening to me?"

Bulma snapped to attention and looked over at Yamcha, across from her in the cell. It had been hours since she was dumped here and yet it felt like forever had gone by already. They were dropping the temperature in the area little by little, and she'd begun shaking a few minutes ago. The cold air circulated around their cell, but it came from the ceiling in waves that hit her skin and gave her terrible goosebumps.

"Yea… Yea, I'm listening."

"I'm just really happy you're here… I… I haven't been able to talk to someone like this in a long time. I couldn't even tell you the last time I had a real conversation with someone."

"I need to get out," Bulma said, looking around at the stone walls for the umpteenth time. "I'm not happy that I'm here. And I need to leave."

"Oh… I didn't mean I was happy that you ended up here. I was just saying how it's nice to have someone to talk to—"

"Do you even regret what you did?" Bulma spat out, without thinking. She'd been holding everything in for the past few hours as Yamcha blabbered away, half of it nothing in particular, and the other half nonsense. She'd promised herself she wouldn't blame him. He'd mentioned something about injections and experiments and blacking out, but she could still only think of what he'd looked like in the throne room… when he attacked Chichi. It was difficult for her to just accept that, much less forgive him, or anyone for it.

"Bulma, I… I don't even remember what happened. I just said that. One second, I was being lead to the table, and then everything is a bit of a blur. I just remember waking up back here, with an awful headache. And I was super turned on… like, it was really painful, but that was it."

Bulma kept avoiding looking in Yamcha's direction, even though it was too dark for either of them to see where the other's eyes wandered. She didn't even want to see his silhouette. She was disgusted with this whole place and what was happening to her. She knew she couldn't put the whole blame on Yamcha, but it was still him back in the throne room. And it was still him that she was going to be forced to be with, too.

"You know… I always thought it would be me and you," Yamcha whispered. "That's what everyone said three years ago, at least. Do you remember that? Whenever I'd pass you in the halls upstairs you'd smile at me. You'd look at me and smile and then look at the floor. I used to think about you all the time. I actually still do—"

"What did they do to you?" Bulma asked, trying to keep the heat out of her tone. "Back then, I _would_ see you around all the time, and all of a sudden you show up like… like _that_. I didn't even recognize you. And you almost hurt Chichi. You were going to hurt her, and you're supposed to do the same thing to me in a couple weeks."

"What are you talking about? I wouldn't hurt Chichi, and I'd die before I hurt you."

Bulma looked at the ground. She didn't want to talk to Yamcha. Maybe if they'd been able to talk to each other three years ago, they might have grown close. But everything she knew about him were just things she'd made up or imagined in her head for her perfect boyfriend and future husband. She knew now that those past thoughts were naïve. She used to fantasize about when the prince would finally let her go from her job as a chambermaid and she could go be with Yamcha—with her own people. And they'd live happily ever after.

"So, they do experiments down here?" she asked. "Like what? Are they going to do things to me, too?"

"You never told me how you got down here anyway. I swear, if that monster of a prince sent you here, I'll kill him myself. He has no right to—"

"He _didn't_ ," Bulma cut him off, not sure why she was getting angrier by the second. "He wouldn't do that." But she heard Yamcha let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Uh, yea he _would_. He's a _Saiyan_. And he does it to plenty of other people. Almost half the people down here are sent by him to get tortured or punished for something small or stupid." He scowled. "The rest of them are probably from his damn father."

"What is this place, exactly?"

"For me, it's just where they put me to live. I'm not punished, per say. But, they do use me to test things that they make. Machines, serums… but sometimes good things, like cures for sicknesses. Others are just here because someone wants them to suffer. And we can all guess who would want that."

"So, what happens to you then?"

"It's been almost three years, Bulma. Do you want the whole story? I just told you. When they need a guinea pig, that's me. That's been my job since I came down here. Other than that, I know that I'm also supposed to make sure our species doesn't die out. They've send Earthling girls down here to me, too… I'm sorry, but when I first realized it was you, I just thought… well, never mind."

Bulma shivered at what his next words could have been. She let some silence pass before she asked another question. "And what? When you black out and go crazy, that's because of something they gave you?"

"Yea, it's some injection. I've only gotten it twice now. Once was down here, and the other was before I got into the throne room. Both times I blacked out and woke up… I told you, I felt like I had a hangover and the worst hard-on of my life. So, yea, I can guess what they had me doing when I wasn't conscious." She heard Yamcha sigh. "But Chichi… I had no idea… I can't believe I would do something like that…"

"You were… like some kind of rabid animal. You looked like you were sick. You were so pale and…" Bulma paused and waited through another period of silence. "You were terrifying."

"Can you… Do you mind telling me what happened? I heard that the king decided not to go through with the mating, but no one down here wants to talk to me, and the guards certainly won't tell me what happened. I've been in the dark, and I'd really like to know."

Bulma racked her brain, realizing that she didn't really remember every detail.

"You were in the center of the room. They had chains on you by the time I got there. They gave you something first—an injection of something and… when Chichi showed up, I kind of lost myself. I just remember trying to get to her and not being able to. By the time it was almost over, I just got one look at you… You didn't look human. What I remember the most is that your skin was pale… yellow and green in some places and your…" She trailed off, wishing that she'd be able to one day get the image of his abnormal, dark red-brown erection out of her mind. It had disgusted her and burned her memory. "It was terrifying."

"What… what happened after that?"

"Chichi's dating a Sai—err… She's dating this guy who "called her" or something. It's one of their rules, I guess. Since she already had someone she plans on staying with, then she couldn't have an Earthling child… I don't know. Apparently, that rules isn't valid anymore anyway."

"…I'm sorry."

"If all this has been happening to you for years, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"It's these damn Saiyans! If only I had some kind of power. I'd kill every last one of them, starting with that bastard prince and his damned father!"

Bulma winced. "It's not his fault." She still didn't know why she winced a little every time Yamcha spoke ill about the prince. It was hardly her place to defend anyone.

"Not who's fault? The king is the reason for every bad thing that happens on this planet. And his bastard spawn is no different."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "So, how long do you think they'll keep me here? They said I'm only here because Vege… because the prince sent me here. So, when they figure out that he didn't—"

"How do you know? He could have sent you here. I wouldn't put it past him."

"I don't think he… he wouldn't do that."

"What are you talking about? Of course he would. He's _Prince Vegeta_." Yamcha spat his name and title like it burned his tongue.

"Well, I _know_ he didn't," she said sternly, looking at the ground. "So, how long until they let me out?"

"Bulma, listen to me… They're not going to ask how you got here or how long you're supposed to stay. What you should hope for is that someone like Chichi or Maron come here looking for you, with a good enough reason to get you out."

"Well, I'm sure Chichi will notice I'm gone as soon as I don't show up to pick up the prince's breakfast. I guess I'm glad you didn't successfully attack her, otherwise I'd be stuck down here…" She trailed off, immediately hating herself for the mood she was putting herself in. "Yamcha, I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed out and… And I know everything that happened wasn't your fault. It's just… this place… this goddamn planet changes people."

"No… no, I know."

There was a long period of silence. Bulma pressed her back against the cold, damp wall behind her and hugged her knees to her chest, trying to stop herself from shivering so much. Why did the temperature keep going down anyway? Was something broken?

"Why does it keep getting colder in here?" she asked, just as her teeth started chattering.

"They… they usually do that to punish the other people in the cells around here."

"The other people? You know it's happening to you, too, right?"

"Bulma… I just thought about something…"

"How to turn on the heat?"

"No, I mean… what if they didn't have to inject me with anything? Maybe they give me that serum because they think that I won't be… compliant… without it, you know?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about? You just said that you would have never done that to Chichi if they hadn't forced you to. So, of course they would have to give you that shit..." She crossed her arms again, hugging herself tighter. Her upper body was starting to shake and it was aggravating her even more.

"No… I mean… What I mean to say is… What if we… you and me, just… agreed to—"

Footsteps in the distance cut Yamcha off and brought Bulma out of her thoughts. They sounded like hard boots on wooden steps, until they changed and hit the metal floors she'd been dragged on before, then hit cement as they got closer and closer. Bulma squinted her eyes, but all she could see were the silhouettes of the bars between her and her way out. And after a moment, she could see the outline of a man standing outside of them.

"Are you here to let me out?" Bulma asked, but the man didn't reply. "And it's getting a little chilly in here, don't you think? Care to turn the heat up a bit?"

"Come here, Earthling," he said, and Bulma just scowled. Like hell she was going to move. But Yamcha was at the bars in a moment. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she squinted to see in the dark again. It didn't work. "Put out your arm."

Another period of silence passed before the man turned to walk away and Yamcha just sank to the floor by the bars.

"What was that?" Bulma asked slowly, quietly, when the man was far gone.

"I thought it was just the usual injection, but it's making me feel weird… maybe it was something different today."

"Is it different a lot?"

Yamcha paused. "No, never. I haven't even gotten my usual shots today. I was supposed to get them right as they brought you in here. They probably forgot with what was going on."

"Do you… need them or something?"

"I mean… they stop the chills and the shaking… I've never really gone long without them, to be honest… But I'm not worried. Unless they give me that sticky black stuff, I'll be fine. That's the one that makes me black out and forget a bunch of things."

"Well, what did they just give you then?"

"No idea. Maybe it's new…. It's making my skin crawl a little, though," he said, and Bulma heard him start scratching at his skin. "It's probably just a side effect."

Bulma didn't want to keep talking about injections and the weird effects of some drugs they were feeding the soon-to-be father of her child… or children. Everything about the idea of Yamcha was starting to disgust her, but that made her hate herself a little. She knew that what happened to him and what was going to happen to both of them wasn't his fault. It was this place… this planet and the people who destroyed Earth. She started to daydream about what Earth would be like right now, had the Saiyans never locked their destructive eyes on it. The only thing she knew was this place, and it almost made her sick that all she could image was the purple-reds of the ground here and the green-blue waters. The high cliffs and the tall white buildings. The only memories of Earth that she had were her dreams of being chased and falling in the brown mud, hiding from the people that took her parents away. And she didn't even know if her dreams were accurate. Everything from her life with her parents was a blur. And she wasn't sure if she wanted to remember it all or not, if she was ever given the choice.

"You want to know what I was thinking about before?" Yamcha suddenly asked. He didn't wait for her to answer before he continued. "You said that when I blacked out, I… I attacked Chichi, right? I was trying to say this before, but… but is that going to happen again? I mean, why wouldn't they just ask us to do it like… in a civilized way? It's not like they'd have to force me to… well, you know. If it had to be done, I wouldn't exactly put up a fight, you know?"

He trailed off, and Bulma hoped it was because he could sense her disgust again. She hated that she made this even more awkward than it was, but she couldn't stomach this kind of talk. Not right now.

"So… before… I was thinking that they're going to, you know… make me do that again… with the other Earthlings in the castle, right? So… why not avoid that?"

"You think if I found a way to avoid it, that I wouldn't have done it by now?" Bulma spat, feeling bad about her behavior again.

"No, I mean… you couldn't have done anything because you didn't even know I was down here. But now that you do… I don't have to attack anyone if they're right in front of me…"

It took her a minute, but the lightbulb finally went off in her head, and Bulma almost lost it. She took a breath and calmed herself first before opening her mouth.

"If you tried that, it would be the exact same thing as attacking me," she said bluntly. How could he say such a thing to her right now?

"But think about it… If you were already pregnant and the baby was a hundred-percent Earthling, then you wouldn't have to—"

"Please stop. I can't believe you're trying to have this conversation with me right now."

"I'm just being honest with you. It's just a way out, that's all."

"A way out of getting _raped_." She had to stop before she added that it was _him_ who would rape her. Every word that came out of her mouth made her feel more and more like a piece of shit. And Yamcha went silent again. This was the first time in a long time that he had someone to talk to and she couldn't keep the venom away from her words.

"Maybe you could try running away," he said meekly.

"I'd have nowhere to go."

"I hear the guards talking about space ships. You could use one and go to another planet."

"There are people here that I wouldn't just leave behind." And she immediately thought of Chichi, then Launch. Even Maron. And… someone else?

Yamcha went silent again and Bulma sighed.

"Listen, I know you're just trying to help. I get that, really. But I know what's going to happen to me, and I know that it's not something I can just run away from. I won't die—I know the Saiyans won't let that happen—and I've had a decent amount of time to think about it, so… I'm just going to have to come to terms with it. I just really don't want to have a bunch of conversations about it, if you don't mind."

"Yea… Yea, sure… Then what do you want to talk about?" When Bulma never answered, Yamcha just kept talking again. "How have you been, then? You still work for that prince, right?"

"No. I mean, yes, I do. But let's not talk about that right now."

"Why not? Did something happen?"

"No, I just don't want to talk about him right now."

"Him…?" Yamcha paused for a second, as if she'd said something wrong. "Well, no offense, but you're not the greatest person to talk to, Bulma."

"Maybe that's because I shouldn't even be here right now. I should be trying to get out somehow, but I don't even know where to start. Is all I can do really sit here and wait? And why does the temperature keep dropping!? I'm freezing, and the dampness isn't helping!" She folded her arms together and hugged herself on the floor. After a few moments of frustration, she groaned and stood.

"What are you doing?—"

"Hey!" Bulma screamed past the metal bars. "Hey! Is someone there?! I want to talk to somebody about me being here! I know it was a mistake and I can prove it!" There was no response but a quiet echo of her own voice. " _Hey_!" she screamed again.

"Oh, shit," Yamcha said, and she heard him lean heavily into the wall behind her. Before she could ask him what was wrong, she heard him drop down and vomit. He gasped for a breath and then threw up again. She listened to him wretch and then dry heave, and after about a minute, it subsided. "What the hell was that?" he mumbled, and Bulma lifted an eyebrow.

"Are you alright?—"

"Who's making all that noise?!" a voice shouted past the bars, down the hall.

"Please help! He's sick!" Bulma immediately replied.

"What are you—"

"Shh!" she hissed at Yamcha. "Please, I think he's dying! You have to help him!"

A silhouette showed up past the bars and Bulma listened to the rattle of keys before the squeak of the hinges moving as the bars were swung out of the way. As soon as Bulma saw her opening, she ducked past the man and tumbled out into the hall. She saw the faint light at the end and started sprinting for it.

"Catch her!" she heard a dull voice say, and it wasn't long before another man was standing between her and the light from that one room. She slowed down and looked behind her. She couldn't tell, but she thought someone was there, too, blocking her in the hall.

"Let me out!" she screamed at them.

"Grab her," a voice said, a few feet behind her now. "I think we need to give this one some early lessons on what happens when you try to escape. Give me an hour with her and she'll never try it again."

"Go for it. That stuff finally kicked in for the male, so throw her back in his cell when you're finished. And make sure you turn on some lights so we can record the results."

"Record…?" Bulma whispered, but immediately focused on her current task. She had to get out of here.

"Yes, sir," the one man said, suddenly lurching forward and grabbing Bulma around the waist. She screamed, and he lifted her like she weighed next to nothing. She screeched again and pummeled his back when she was thrown over his shoulder, but her nails couldn't even break his skin. Was this a Saiyan? It had to be… Anything she tried was like feathers trying to damage a diamond.

She was thrown, stomach down, onto a table… the one from before, she guessed. And she was strapped down, with belts around her wrists, ankles and waist. The only part of her she could move was her neck, and face-down, she could barely do that, too.

"Let me go!" she cried out, but she felt her shirt grabbed and torn open, and cold air hit her bare back. "What are you doing?!" Something even colder hit her skin and she yelped, just as she felt something sharp poke into her skin. She screamed, but everything was blurring fast.

"There. That should keep your mouth shut for a little while."

She whimpered as her eyelids got too heavy to keep open, and as something sharp scratched her back, drawing blood. She felt the wetness of tears graze her face, as the wetness of blood coated her back. She cried as she fell unconscious.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Bulma opened her eyes as she hit the floor. The metal bang reminded her that she was still in this awful place, and now she was back in the cell with Yamcha. She felt the wet hard floor on her skin and lifted her arms to her body to find that her shirt was torn and in ribbons. Her back and stomach were exposed, but thankfully there was just enough to cover her chest. Unfortunately, it seemed like they'd torn her bra off. She gasped and immediately reached down between her legs, but her pants were still on and nothing felt like it had been touched. She sighed in relief and sat up—

And winced. She gritted her teeth together as she reached behind to place her fingertips on her shoulder blades and felt the open wounds there. The wet wasn't just from the dampness in the cell. She was also wet from her own blood. She gulped and let out a light sob as he brought her arm back around and tried to see how far she could stretch without pain shooting down her back. If anything, she was just glad that her pants were still on. But then again, why would they risk doing anything to her that would make the king angry… They must have known she was an Earthling if they didn't try to violate her…

"B… Bulma…" a croak came from the other side of the cell and Bulma jumped, forgetting that she wasn't alone in here. Her hands came up to cover her chest, even though it was too dark to see anything, and the shirt pretty much covered her anyway. "Stay… away…"

"Yamcha? What's wrong with you? You sound… like you need something to drink…"

"Whatever they gave me… I feel… I don't feel like myself…"

Bulma froze. "It wasn't… that black stuff, was it?"

"No, I… I'm still me, but… I… just… I just want to get out! Get me _out_!" he suddenly shouted, and Bulma heard heavy metal chains clank in the cell. He let out an inaudible scream and something like shackles rattled again, loudly.

Bright lights came on in the next second and Bulma had to shut her eyes. She tried to open them, but she could barely see anything around her and they started to water, tears dripping down her face as she listened to the rattle of chains and Yamcha's shouts.

"Let me out!" he screamed again, and she struggled to force her eyes to stay open and see what was around her, but the lights directly above her and outside the cell were like the stadium lights that lit up the entire throne room.

"Yamcha! What's going on?!" she screamed back, her arms clutching her body tighter, making sure she wasn't exposing herself in the bright lights. She wasn't sure who was looking at her, but she had a funny feeling…

"They're going to get me! I have to get out! Get out of my way! Stop holding me back! _I'll kill you_!"

"Yamcha! Stop! What the hell is going on?!"

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

She started squinting and she could see the metal bars to her right. And the outline of a few people standing there. It looked like one was leaning against a wall, and the other had a clipboard or something like a book in their hand, looking down at it.

She tried seeing around where Yamcha's voice was coming from, but the lights were shining from that direction, and all she could make out was the outline of his body. He was standing upright, for the most part, but his hands were out from his sides and he looked like he was leaning forward. He screamed again and pulled on what she now knew were chains. He was shackled to the wall in the corner, and whatever they injected him with before must have done something to him to make him act this way.

"Yamcha…" she tried saying, keeping her voice as calm as possible. "Yamcha, that needle from before… you said that they hadn't given you you're usual stuff, right? And that this one was making your skin crawl—"

" _Shut up_! Let me out! Let me _out_!"

"Yamcha! Listen to me!—"

She heard one of the chains snap and Yamcha lurched forward, reaching for her with one free arm, the other still shackled to the wall behind him. Bulma screeched when he moved, and her eyes went wide as her vision started to clear up. His eyes were all white, rolled back into his head, and his skin was almost pale white, so much so that she could see blue veins under his skin.

"You have to calm down!" she screamed at him, but he was tugging hard on the metal, and his livid eyes were locked on her. "Please!" she screeched. He started gritting his teeth and straining the muscles in his neck, his gaze still locked on her.

"Make sure you're getting all this," she heard one of the men say outside the bars. Immediately, Bulma stood and moved closer to them, putting more distance between her and Yamcha.

"What are you doing to him?!" she shouted, keeping one eye on the chains. "Why are you doing this?"

"Don't worry, I have the cameras turned on. I'll take record of it now and we can re-watch it later to see if we missed—"

Bulma screamed as she saw the second chain snap and Yamcha charged at her, his face twisted in rage. She ducked to her left and he crashed, face-first, into the metal bars, and then his whole body hit the floor. But his limbs seemed to twist and he stood again, whipping around and diving at her again. Bulma moved, but he caught her ankle and fell to the floor, dragging her down with him.

"Help! Please help me!" she screamed to the men outside the cage. "He'll kill me! I'm an Earthling! I can't die! I can't—"

Yamcha's palm scraped her face, his nails digging into her skin as his other hand balled into a fist and hit her right in the side. She screamed again and put her hands up to block her face, the torn pieces of her shirt falling to the side, exposing her to Yamcha and the two men.

"Please!" she cried, yelping as Yamcha struck her other side, and then aimed for her head, but hitting her forearms as she blocked him. "Stop it!" She tried curling into a ball to minimize the places he could hit her, but then he started punching her legs and she winced away from each hit.

A bright flash and a blast that sounded like thunder interrupted everything, and Bulma heard one of the men scream out in pain above her own cries. Yamcha didn't even look away or pause, though, so Bulma kept her hands up and her eyes squeezed shut. But in another moment, she heard metal crash to the floor and the weight was taken off of her. She immediately opened her eyes and looked to her left—and immediately burst out crying.

"Chichi!" she screamed, and her black-haired friend ran over to her, tears running down her face.

" _Bulma_!" she cried, landing on her knees beside her and cradling her head in her lap. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" She lifted her higher and squeezed her tighter and Bulma flinched as her friend started crying even harder than she was. But something else caught her attention, and at first she thought she was dreaming, but another voice cut through all the noise and the confusion.

"Vegeta! _Vegeta_ , _stop_! _You're killing him_! _Stop_!"

Bulma's eyes shot open and she forced herself to sit up fast. Where was he?

"Oh, no…" Yamcha's voice came from somewhere ahead of her, behind Chichi. "No… No, Bulma… I… I don't know why I did that… I don't—" A loud noise cut him off.

"Vegeta, no!"

"Goku, stop him!" Chichi suddenly screamed, twisting around, but still holding Bulma in a tight hug. But in the next moment, Bulma watched as Goku's body flew across the cell and slammed into the wall right beside her. She felt Chichi jump and she heard the stone wall crack. "Are you okay?!"

"You have to stop him!" Goku suddenly shouted, and it took Bulma a moment to realize that he was staring right at her. She stared back at him, dumbfounded.

"Wh… What—" She placed a palm over her face, right where it stung the most.

" _Now_!"

"I… But how can I—"

"Forget it!" Goku shouted angrily, standing back up and charging back towards where the cell door used to be. Bulma saw it laying on the ground in the far right, wondering how it got there. "Vegeta, stop!" Goku shouted again. "She's okay! Bulma's okay!"

He was thrown into the wall again, harder this time, but he stood up just as fast and charged back in.

"You can stop him," Chichi said softly, and Bulma looked up at her. "I know you think I'm kidding when we talk about this stuff, Bulma, but now I know… When we first realized you were missing, he—"

Goku smashed into the wall one more time, cutting her off, and he struggled to stand. Bulma frowned, wondering just how much stronger Vegeta was compared to other Saiyans.

"Please," Goku said, looking at her again. "Just try." And as if he knew what she was thinking from the way she looked at the dented wall behind him, he added, "He won't hurt you. I know he won't."

"Can you stand?" Chichi asked, and Bulma moved a little, trying to get her balance as she got to her hands and knees. She looked up just as Goku rushed forward again and tried to make sense of what she saw in front of her. The cell was gone. The metal bars were strewn across the floor and out into where the hall used to be. The walls were cracked. The lights were dim now and one was flickering. One of the men was facedown out in the hall, a metal bar through his skull, sticking straight up. Bulma's jaw dropped, and for a second, she couldn't look away, but Goku had the prince on the ground, his hands behind his back as he straddled the other man. In one fluid motion, the prince got free, threw Goku off him once more, and slammed a clipboard through the man's chest. With one last breath, the light left the man's eyes. Bulma's hand shot to her mouth in shock.

But the prince stood when both the men were dead, and looked to his right, where Yamcha was unconscious on the ground. He looked terrible… But she wasn't paying much attention to Yamcha.

She stared at Vegeta for what seemed like almost a minute. His back was to her, but the way he stood and the shape of him were so familiar. His face was turned to the side, and she could see the rage written there. But she could see his face… and his eyes. And it made her feel like she'd been in this place for months and she hadn't seen him at all in that time. And all she wanted to do was stare at him from behind. Something clenched in her chest, and she could have sworn it was from the beating she took from Yamcha, but deep down she knew it was something else entirely.

He stepped over the dead body of the one male guard and locked his eyes on Yamcha, and Bulma immediately snapped to attention. Goku struggled to get up, and she knew she had barely a few seconds to react before Yamcha looked even worse than the guards. And as if Chichi and her were on the same mental wavelength, her friend helped her stand before she forced herself to ignore the pain shooting down her back, and she rushed towards him.

"Stop! Vegeta, _stop_!" she cried, but just as she reached out a hand, mere inches from the back of his shirt, pain shot through her leg and she felt herself drop, her knee hitting the hard floor, and she winced again as she fell hard.

As if he didn't hear her, he took the remaining steps toward Yamcha's still body and raised his open palm, glaring down at him. With everything she had left in her, and hearing a few cracks throughout her body, Bulma forced herself back up and threw herself at the prince. She didn't move him, but before she could hit the ground, his arms moved, and he caught her. And for a brief moment, he let her hang on him like that, and she thought he wasn't going to help her up. But then he dropped to the ground with her and he finally looked at her. But his eyes focused on her chest and Bulma gulped. Instead of doing anything she would have expected him to do, or even say, he pulled his shirt off and wrapped it around her, tying it behind her back, careful not to hit the wounds.

"You… could have just put it on over my head..." Bulma said softly, and he narrowed his eyes at her. But then she smiled and laughed and his face changed. She didn't have time to see what it changed to, though, because he quickly looked away. But he held her on the floor for another few moments before cradling her in his arms and standing.

"I'll take him to the infirmary," Goku said quickly, and before Vegeta could make an angry statement that was clearly written all over his face, the other Saiyan grabbed Chichi in one arm and Yamcha in the other, and he was gone in a flash. It was probably a smart decision, considering that Yamcha was a dead man if he stayed, but Bulma was alone with the prince amongst the mess now, with two mutilated bodies on the floor, beside them.

"Did they…?" Vegeta suddenly spoke, and Bulma couldn't help but sigh. Even his voice was reassuring, as raspy as it was in that moment. But she had to look up at him, unsure of what he meant. But he was looking her body up and down in his arms, and she just looked back at him, almost sadly. Bulma knew what he meant then, and the simple fact that those words were the first out of his mouth made that feeling in her chest tighten again.

"No… No, they didn't."

His body seemed to relax a little and he started stepping over rubble and bodies, carrying her to the exit. She could still see that light at the end, but it wasn't as dark as before. The whole place just looked like a crappy basement when she wasn't being held captive.

"What about the others?" she asked, noticing someone on the ground in another one of the last cells, but Vegeta didn't answer her. He kept walking, past the table where they'd strapped her down, and up the stairs. He kicked open the door, breaking something on the handle, and took that one step that brought them back into the castle. He walked down the hall and made that one left she wished she never made and headed for the medical wing. "Vegeta?" she whispered, keeping her hands on her stomach. A part of her wanted to wrap her arms around him, but she just couldn't move like that right now. "Could you… not leave me alone… when they heal me?"

He didn't say a word, and he wouldn't even look down at her, but she saw him nod once.

"And… the Warkind princess…"

"What about her?" he asked, and Bulma was relieved that he was talking.

"…I don't want to be alone with her ever again."

Vegeta paused outside of a large white door in the medical wing and lifted her upper body so that her face was a little closer to his. Bulma flushed, but he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. He nodded again, slowly, and took a few moments to breathe.

"When I looked for your energy," he said, his eyes closed, "All I felt was fear… panic and fear" He paused to exhale. "I thought you'd just be off somewhere, shirking your duties, playing in the kitchen… something like that, but…"

"I'm okay," Bulma breathed. "I'm okay now."

He tilted his head and met her mouth with his, tenderly. Bulma wondered why she wasn't surprised, as if this was something completely natural—as if it would have been weird for him to _not_ kiss her. They weren't together like that, she knew. Their relationship was complicated, and it certainly wasn't anything concrete. And she knew he'd go back to calling on prostitutes at night and she would go back to cleaning up after him and making his bed. But she kissed him back and she meant it.

For some reason, she knew that going back to the way things were was going to make her a little sad this time. Suddenly the thought of him sleeping with various women was no longer disturbing and disgusting—it just made her very sad. And if she brought him his breakfast and he never showed up and never ate, she knew that would make her sad now, too… She wanted to sleep in his bed. She wanted to wake up and see him. She wanted to prepare his shower and his breakfast and have him depend on her for what little she could do for him. And then it hit her like another punch to her head. This was what Chichi and Maron and Launch were all talking about…

Was she really in love with Vegeta?


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen:**

Bulma looked over at the medical table to her right. Yamcha lay there, unmoving, with his eyes closed. He'd been unconscious since Goku brought him up here. Tubes came out of his skin and needles were in his arms, hooked up to liquids that she couldn't recognize in clear, plastic bags on wheels. So many wires surrounded him, and it made her wonder how she managed to escape with barely any damage. The doctors all said that her injuries were minor. The biggest wound was on her back, and they said it would leave a thin scar where, apparently, she'd been cut open with a knife. But other than that, she was bruised and beaten, but it was nothing that couldn't be healed relatively fast by the Colds' advanced medical technology.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the treatment bay, but it couldn't have been more than a half hour, before a nurse told her she was free to go. Vegeta had been outside the door when she was admitted, and she hoped he'd stayed there, like she'd asked him to. She knew he was an impatient man, so she didn't get her hopes up… Or, she tried not to, at least.

She stood and measured her balance, making sure she wouldn't topple over as soon as she let go of the hard bed and her stability. Thankfully, everything seemed to be in working order, so she thanked the nearest nurse and quickly headed for the door, eager to see him…

Since her confusing revelation, she wasn't sure how to act. Of course, acting normal would be the best option, but she wasn't sure how that was possible anymore. And if she tried too hard, she'd end up ignoring him on purpose or acting too much out of the ordinary.

It wasn't like she was fearful… Those things that Chichi, Launch, Maron and even Goku said, about Vegeta treating her like she was special… She wanted to believe that was true, but she also knew the horrible things he'd done to her. And how those things conflicted with what they were trying to tell her. All she knew was that something in her chest tightened when she thought about him, and turning around the corner outside the door and seeing him pacing down the hall gave her an extreme case of the butterflies.

She looked away too fast. She knew she was already blushing, and she begged her mind to turn off the butterflies. This was something that would pass… it had to be. Maybe she was just feeling anxious because she'd been in a literal dungeon for the past twenty-four hours, and he'd practically saved her life. He'd killed people for her and he physically carried her to safety. It was like those stories Chichi used to talk to her about, with a princess and a prince, and how the princess got saved and the prince defended her honor… or whatever…

Bulma frowned at the floor. And he _was_ a prince… But she wasn't even close to a princess, and she knew that was one of the biggest reasons she'd never admitted it to herself before now. There was just no way it could possibly work out. She was a chambermaid. He was the prince of a savage planet. Even if they wanted to, no one would ever accept her as Vegeta's… She would just be another one of his concubines… or worse, a _special_ whore.

Vegeta saw her and started walking over. He looked… as good as ever. And Bulma found her gaze drifting back down to the floor as the butterflies came back. God, she had to get these stupid feelings under control.

"Did they heal you?" he asked angrily, and she silently wondered why he was in a bad mood all of a sudden. He strolled right up to her and looked down at her face. Bulma tried, but she couldn't meet his eyes. Her gaze stayed between his chest and his collarbone. She felt ridiculous.

"I'm fine. They healed everything, but the cut on my back is going to leave a light scar. They said it was too deep for them to completely cover the mark, but they did their best."

He snorted. "I'll have to stop by later and—"

"There's no need to punish anyone!" she quickly replied, still staring at his collarbone. "They did what they could. Whatever they couldn't do is just their equipment lacking. But they were… very kind to me."

"Whatever," he said. "Let's go." And then he turned and headed down the hall, not turning to check if she was following. Things really went back to normal… too fast. She was hoping he'd be a bit more… concerned, like he was before. She wondered if he'd agree to talk about it later. Probably not, but she could try.

She found the strength to look up as she started walking, staring at his back. His shoulders were wide and he walked like he was angry… confident… she couldn't find the right word to describe it. He walked like no one else. Like he was a prince. Like no one measured up to him.

But then he stopped and turned, but it was too fast and Bulma's eyes met his. She gasped and looked away, but not far enough to miss the dumbfounded expression he wore from her instant reaction. Oh god… He must have noticed something… Bulma gulped.

"At least wait until we're back in my room before you react like that," he said, lifting an eyebrow. And she knew he could tell how her body physically reacted sometimes… But after many seconds of silence brewed like a loud tea pot, Vegeta growled to himself in annoyance. "I'm starving. The only reason I found out you were gone was because I was hungry, and you were late with my meal. And I'll let you know, I was devising all the various ways I was going to punish you before I went looking. And do you know how irritating it is to have to search for a maid? I was so angry, I might've taken your little kitchen bitch's head off if Kakarot hadn't been there, as well."

He was ranting, and the things he said were meant to be jabs at her. Maybe they were supposed to wrench a reaction out of her, she wasn't sure. But she knew him like no one else did, and she had a feeling that he was just talking for the sake of talking… for whatever reason. She couldn't take his words personally when he spoke like that, either.

"Thank you," she replied instead. "For coming to find me."

"I wouldn't have had to do anything if you hadn't been wandering aimlessly around the castle," he sneered. "Don't try to lie about it, either, woman. The only reason you could have been down there is if you went snooping around and they caught you. The next time you do something stupid, I'm not coming to get you."

Her eyes hit the floor, but for another list of reasons this time. And when he started walking again, she just followed behind him, watching the heels of his Saiyan boots as they lifted off the ground and moved forward as he walked. She felt like it took triple the time, but they finally stood outside his door and he swung it open and stepped inside. Bulma swallowed a mouthful of saliva and walked in after him.

"There's the little doggie!" a childish voice barked, and Bulma had almost forgot all about the princess. But it came back to her in a second and she paused, wondering if she was going to be punished after all. "I see you left your cage before I allowed you to. What a _bad_ doggie. I suppose I'll have to discipline you before breakfast. That's good. At least I'll get some exercise in before—"

"Shut up," Vegeta said bluntly, walking towards the garderobe. He didn't even turn around to look at the place before he closed the door behind him and Bulma heard him start to run the water.

"I guess he's leaving you here with me for your disciplining," the little girl said with a devilish smirk. "I got a good night's rest, but when I woke up, you weren't where I left you. And not only that, but the prince never came to bed, which made me super mad. Apparently, he'd been awake all night, training. But he was oh-so mad when he got back and his dinner wasn't on the table. I feel bad for you, really. Both of us are going to have to teach you how things work around here. Lucky for me, I get my turn first—"

"I thought I told you to shut up!" Vegeta barked, stepping out from under the doorway with just his pants on. The water running got louder when he opened the door. He grabbed a towel from a drawer on one of his dressers, scowled at the princess, and went back to his shower.

"See? He doesn't care about you at all," the girl smirked. "That's so funny."

"He wasn't talking to me, you moron. I wasn't even talking," Bulma murmured, but of course the princess heard her. She was almost as strong as a Saiyan, which probably meant that she was as fast, too. And also had their heightened senses. That was unfortunate.

"What did you just say to me, slave?" The Warkind princess took three steps forward, and just as her foot hit the ground on the third step, Vegeta flashed in front of her, the door to the garderobe slamming open when he was already standing still. He looked down at the child, shirtless. Bulma couldn't stop thinking about how the muscles in his back looked perfect.

"I'm not interested in you tonight. Go back to your guardian and tell her that you've offended me and I don't want to listen to your annoying voice scream and moan in my fucking ear all night."

"Wh… What? How have I offended you, your Highness?"

There was a pause before he answered. "You took the liberty to sleep in my bed without asking. Now I'll have to wait for my servant to not only collect the meal she forgot about, but also change the sheets so I don't have to sleep with your scent in my face all night. Not only that, but she neglected to take proper care of herself and hasn't gotten any sleep. Neither have I. That means that I'm extra irritable and she'll be extra slow with her work, which puts me in an even worse mood."

"But… W…Why didn't you come home last night, my Lord—"

" _Get out_!"

The princess scurried to grab the few clothes she had lying on the floor and rushed out the door.

"Was that smart?" Bulma suddenly asked, wondering if Vegeta was allowed to just send the girl away like that. It didn't seem like something the Warkinds would appreciate and pissing them off was obviously a bad idea. Bulma really wasn't in the mood for a planetary war… especially when both sides were so dramatically stronger than even the most powerful Earthling. She wouldn't want to be in the middle of it, even though she felt like it already.

"Did you not hear me, woman? I said that you have to get me food and change these filthy sheets! You've been missing for an entire night, and half of the day. You've been healed so if you start slacking I'm going to get angry. Do you understand?"

Bulma just nodded at him, getting a feeling like a weight just dropped in her stomach. This was what she'd been thinking about before. Even if she loved him… Even on the off-chance that he gave a damn about her… She would always be his servant. She would never be his equal. Being together, in any form of the word, was… impractical, if not impossible. And thinking about it now, with him standing half-naked in front of her, wasn't helping.

But something else in the back of her mind wanted her to believe otherwise. It had to be the stupidest part of her, she figured. She had images flash in her imagination of her saying his name now, and closing the distance between them. Kissing him… Her mind drifted to him pushing her down onto the bed and saying "fuck the sheets" and rolling her on top of them anyway. And they could lay there for a little while, mouth-on-mouth, feeling each other's breath. And then… then nothing. Nothing would happen. Maybe he would try something, but she would just have to push him off and say "no, that's not who I am," and he would get angry and send her to go get his food anyway…

"I'll have your meal ready in fifteen minutes, sir," she said softly. "I'll change the sheets right after. They'll be ready when you're finished eating." She lowered her eyes to the floor and turned, but as she reached for the doorknob, and pulled the door open about four inches, Vegeta's hand came around and slammed it shut. It slammed and the noise made Bulma jump. So did his voice right next to her, in the next moment.

"… _Sir_?" he whispered in her ear, and she shivered from his breath and the closeness. She stared at the space where the door and the wall met. "Take your shirt off."

" _Excuse me_?"

She felt his hand immediately meet the bottom of the shirt they'd given her in the medical wing. It was a little long on her, so it ended in the middle of her butt, and she felt his finger graze her there. She jumped when she felt him sliding up under the back of her shirt. She shivered again and whirled around, putting her hands out in front of her and pushing him away. Well, trying to. She didn't move him. She gasped when his hand followed her spin and landed on her upper stomach. She yelped and tried to back up, but only slammed into the door an inch behind her. She was well aware that she wasn't wearing a bra, and his fingertips had come dangerously close to grazing the bottom of her breasts.

"Turn back around," he said flatly. "I want to see the scar."

"No! Stop it!" She grabbed his wrist through the medical wing's shirt and tried to wrench him off of her, but he kept his palm flat against her stomach and he wouldn't move it. "What do you want from me?!" she screamed, and she suddenly felt everything hit her like a truck. Everything that happened down there… The torture, the grabbing, Yamcha… the cold, the hard floor, the dampness. How she was beaten and bruised and thrown on a table and cut open. How she was threatened and almost raped and everything in between.

And she couldn't stop herself when the tears started falling and the screaming started. She barely knew it was her making the loud noises until her legs gave out. Vegeta removed his hand in a fraction of a second and made sure she didn't hit the ground too hard. But he stood there, and he watched her for what felt like a couple minutes. She didn't even look up at him. She kept her eyes glued to the floor as she moved to her hands and knees and stared at his bare feet. This was where she was meant to be, anyway, right? This was her position, on her knees below the prince's dark eyes. And sure, he could be a little sweet when he wanted to be, but this was his position, too—standing above her, arms crossed, looking down at her on the ground. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, this was how the world worked now. This was how things had to be, and this was how they'd stay—

Bulma yelped as he grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her to her feet. She sobbed as he led her to his bed, and she quickly shook her head at him, her eyes finally going to his face. He looked back at her for a moment before closing his eyes and pausing.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, eyes narrowed.

"Like… what?" she asked through her crying, but he didn't answer her. She shouted when he tossed her onto the bed and crawled up next to her. "Vegeta…" she cried, knowing how helpless she sounded. She hated how weak she truly was. "Please… no…"

"I said, stop looking at me like that," he repeated angrily, grabbing her and pulling her up to him.

She winced and turned her head away when his face was too close to hers. She heard him tsk and dared to look into his eyes again. He wasn't glaring… And she wondered how she was looking at him then. She wondered what reaction she was giving that was making him so mad. Why did she make him so mad?

"Fine," he snarled, releasing her and rolling over. He put his back to her and sat up. He didn't turn around. "Stay here until I'm finished," he commanded, standing and heading back to his running water in the other room.

Bulma lay on the giant bed, her legs hanging off the end, crying softly to herself. Everything that happened to her, up to this point, was bad. She felt like there was no good left in her life. Her parents were murdered, her planet was destroyed, her friends were torn away from her, save for a select few. She was forced to work for an old murderer for years before being told to be a servant to royalty. And that royalty had taken off her collar, threatened her with rape, torture, banishment… She watched her best friend almost get raped. Then she was trapped in a dungeon and now she was just waiting to get raped by a man she thought she could one day be in love with… have a life with… And now… She didn't even know how to move forward anymore.

And how could she? She no longer had to watch out for Chichi—her best friend had Goku, who would clearly die for her. The black-haired beauty was always so positive, and now she had someone to love, and someone who loved her in return. And it gave her life a wonderful purpose. Bulma couldn't help but feel a bit of envy for her friend, even though she knew that Chichi had been through equally horrible things ever since the Saiyans discovered Earth…

She wiped her eyes after losing track of the time and sat up, pursing her lips. She wanted to believe that her life could only get better, but she knew what was meant to happen to her in two weeks now. It was getting closer by the minute, and there was no way out.

She wanted someone to talk to. She wanted to go find Chichi, or Launch… hell, even Maron was someone to vent to right now. But she wasn't allowed to leave. She turned around and reached for a large pillow, dragging it over and tightly hugging it to her chest. She felt the tears start to come back, and she gritted her teeth and whipped the pillow back to the front of the bedframe. She grabbed her hair and stifled a cry. She brought her knees up and hugged them to herself, trying to stop her body from shaking.

Without thinking, tears streaming down her face, she jumped off the bed, landed on her feet, and ran to the door that separated her from the prince. She stood outside of it for a moment, palms flat against it, before turning the handle and sliding it open. The water was still running, and she could see his silhouette through the steam and the water. She watched him turn, but she couldn't see his face in the thick steam.

"What are you doing…?" he said, his arm lifting to run his fingers through his wet hair. Bulma just let out another round of sobs and rushed towards him. With no curtain between them, she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him as tight as she could. She felt him jump, which was a first, but she didn't care. She didn't care that he was naked. She didn't care that she was fully clothed, and everything on her was getting soaked and heavy. She just held onto him as if her life depended on it. And she felt like it kind of did.

" _Vegeta_ ," she cried. She wanted to tell him how scared she was. She wanted to tell him that she was in anguish. She wanted to tell him that she didn't want to be with Yamcha. She didn't want to have Earthling children. She didn't want to get raped and have a crowd watch her as it happened. And she wanted to tell him that she loved him. But no more words would come out of her mouth. She could only say his name, and she started whispering it, over and over, into his wet skin.

Her mouth was on his chest, and she pushed her lips against him in the hot water. The steam made it hard to see, which made clinging to him easier for her. She didn't want him to look at her right now. But at the same time, she wanted him to see her. She wanted him to look at her and _feel_ something. Anything. She wanted him to prove to her that he cared if she lived or died. Sometimes she could've swore she had the right answer, but then he always did something to change her mind. She didn't know what went on inside his head, or if she was just a way to waste time for him.

But after a few more moments, she felt his arms come up and he held her. She squeezed him tighter and his fingers grazed the back of her neck, massaging her there. She felt him slide his fingers under and over her anti-gravity collar, but she felt sure he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. She felt him relax his body and his head slumped.

"Why didn't you just let me kill him?" he whispered, and his voice was hoarse.

They just stood like that for a few more minutes, and Bulma made sure to never loosen her grip. She kept squeezing him tighter and tighter, like if she loosened her arms he would back away from her. And she wasn't ready for that. Not yet. She didn't want to step away from him and have him eye her up and down like a soaked pet. She didn't want things to go back to normal. She didn't want to leave and go get him a change of clothes and his dinner and change the sheets and listen tomorrow night as he tried to have children with that little brat. She didn't want to invite whores into his room and prepare them all meals and set the table for one more when she heard him fucking a woman a little longer than usual. And she certainly didn't want him to turn away from her. She didn't want to let him go, and have him turn away and tell her to leave the room. She instinctively squeezed him tighter again, her muscles sore and screaming at her. But she couldn't stop. She never wanted this to stop. But she couldn't just let everything be…

"Vegeta," she cried into his chest, squeezing him tighter yet again. "I… love you."

Immediately, she realized her mistake, and without thinking, she let go of him and staggered backwards, nearly falling. But before she could even look at his expression, she whipped around and hurried out the door, into the main room. She ran around the large table in the center, knowing that she was creating huge puddles in her wake. But she didn't care.

That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted things to be different, yes. She longed for change, but… The prince was still… Vegeta was still… She didn't want to be used, and yet she'd just given him all the ammunition he would ever need to torture her for the rest of her life. All she had to do was hide it. All she had to do was never let those words leave her lips—

Bulma screamed when she blinked and he was standing in front of her. He'd had the decency to put a towel on, but she caught a glimpse of his face before looking down. His eyes were narrowed and she wasn't sure if she was shaking because the water was making her cold, or something else.

"Look at me," he commanded, and his tone was harsh. Bulma couldn't lift her eyes. "Don't make me repeat myself, woman."

She took a few seconds to look up to his bare chest, back down and then off to the side.

"I can't," she sobbed, squeezing her lids shut and wrapping her arms around herself. She wanted to sink to the floor, but she settled for slumping where she stood.

"You're getting water all over the floor," he sneered.

"So, what? You want me to take my clothes off?" she asked heatedly. She meant it to be rhetorical, but of course he answered her anyway.

"Yes."

"Fuck you."

"Not tonight."

"Not tomorrow, either."

"No… not tomorrow."

"Or the next day—"

"I think I get the point, woman." He took a few steps forward and closed the distance between them. When he put his finger under her chin, and lifted her face, she closed her eyes. It didn't stop the tears from coming out, but she still couldn't look at his face. "Undress. Now. And get into bed. I'll join you in a few minutes… Take clothes from the bottom drawer if your body makes you uncomfortable."

She felt a slight breeze and knew he was gone. She opened one eye and heard the door shut behind her. A few moments later, the water stopped running. She looked behind her and saw the puddles all over the floor. She mentally rolled her eyes when she noticed a puddle just as large where he had been standing.

She heard rustling behind the door and quickly undressed. She wasn't wearing a bra or panties, so it was easy to remove the few clothes she was wearing. She dropped them on the floor, right on top of the water, and quickly pulled out a large white tank top and a pair of blue shorts. She slid them on and slowly made her way to the bed.

After a few minutes, she heard the door open, and footsteps approach the bedroom. She kept her face hidden in one of the pillows, but she couldn't see when he turned out the lights. She felt him sit at the edge of the bed, and then lay down, his weight making her roll a little towards him. She kept her distance, though.

"You… aren't hungry, then?" she asked, trying not to have silence fill the air. She knew she'd just said something she shouldn't have, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep if he just got into bed and didn't say anything.

"Are you?" he replied, and his voice was soft. She could tell he had his back to her from how his voice sounded a little muffled.

Bulma didn't want to answer him. Of course she was hungry, but she didn't want to leave and come back with a whole meal. With her luck, the prince would make her sit down and eat with him. She'd rather just sleep right now. It felt a bit weird, though, knowing it was midday.

"The princess's… scent… isn't bothering you anymore?" she whispered.

"It never did. I just wanted her to leave."

"And you were really going to make me change the sheets?" She almost laughed. Almost.

"Obviously not," he snarled, making Bulma jump in the dark.

"Sorry," she whispered.

She felt the bed move as she listened to the prince adjust himself, and she shivered when she could feel his next breath almost right in her face. He'd turned to face her in the dark, and she wondered if he could see her when she couldn't see him. She closed her eyes, just in case. She parted her lips to ask him another question, but she decided against it. What was the point, anyway? Obviously, he'd just brushed over what she'd said. It was just another reason she knew he didn't care…

"I can't help you," he said suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't stop what's going to happen to you… What's done is done. You shouldn't fight it. You need to accept it—"

"But Chichi was saved. By Goku. Why can't you…" Bulma trailed off.

"Why can't I what? _Claim_ you?" Vegeta spat, and it hurt a little. "Because you asked me to save your friend. And I _did_ , by convincing my father that she _could_ be claimed, and in return, no one else can be. So, congratulations." His voice was dripping with anger, but it wasn't at her. Bulma didn't feel afraid of him right now. "You saved your friend. Now you have to live with your choices."

"You think I shouldn't have asked you to help her?"

"If you hadn't, maybe I could've saved you instead," he said, his voice going soft, but his heat came back, as always. "Then you go and stop me from killing that pathetic bastard. It seems to me like you're not actually _against_ this mating, since you're trying so hard to keep everything in order."

"Yamcha is my friend…"

"Your _friend_? He's also the male who's going to rape you. He's going to be the father of your pathetic offspring. And he's not going to stop himself from hurting you. He can't."

"He wasn't always like that…"

"He is now. Stop living in the past."

The darkness went silent again.

"What if…" Bulma pursed her lips. "What if I couldn't get pregnant?" She squeezed her eyes tight.

"Then my father would see no use for you and he would have you killed. But good luck having the medical department agreeing to a procedure like that. It'll never happen"

Obviously, he didn't get what she was trying to say, which was a blessing. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Asking Vegeta to give her a child right now was almost the same thing as getting raped by Yamcha.

"There's… nothing you can do?" she whimpered.

"No."

"But you're the prince. Isn't there—"

" _Enough_ , woman. You're an Earthling female, and one of the few remaining in the universe. I have no jurisdiction to change that, or to change what my father knows needs to be done. Do you want your species to die out? Because it's happening."

"Please, just… try something—"

"Why should I?" he asked, and it felt like a needle driving into her chest, making painful explosions go off all inside her. She brought a hand up to her chest and squeezed the shirt over her heart. She felt like throwing up. "There's nothing I can do," he repeated, and every time his voice got softer, it seemed more and more forced. "You'll endure the mating, and when it's over, you'll come back here. I'll…" He trailed off for a second. "You'll be able to have your Earthling child within the castle walls. You'll be well protected."

"So… that's it then?" Bulma pursed her lips. She was done crying. She didn't want to cry anymore, but she wasn't sure if she could stop herself. But before she could think of anything else to say, or feel, Vegeta moved closer and his lips met hers. And he was as gentle as he'd been when he took her from the dungeon.

She brought her hands up and cupped his face, kissing him a little harder. He complied, but he wasn't acting like he wanted it to go much further. So, after a few moments, he just stopped. Bulma thought he was going to turn away from her, but instead he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. In a second, she was flush against his body, and she immediately noticed his bare skin. He was only wearing a pair of shorts, but his upper body was warm. She was suddenly very self-conscious about the fact that the sides of her breasts fell out of the oversized tank top she'd pulled out of the prince's dresser. If she moved the wrong way, she might as well be wearing nothing.

But he just held her. And he ended the kiss so soon. Usually it lasted longer… Thoughts raced through her head, and the only thing she could focus on was the fact that she'd so blindly blurted out how she felt… And he never reacted to it. He never even said anything about it. It was as f he didn't hear her, but she knew that was a lie.

"What am I to you?" she whispered in the dark, her mouth on his bare chest again. Her face got hot when her brain reminded her of holding him in the shower. God, he'd been naked and she just… grabbed him like there was nothing wrong with that. And even the prince had been surprised. He must have thought the medical staff drugged her or something.

Vegeta never answered, so Bulma pushed her hands against his chest, backing away from his embrace.

"Don't," he suddenly replied.

"Don't what—"

" _Don't_ ," he stressed, and she could feel his warm breath on her face.

"Why not?" she continued, and she felt his body tense up against hers. "When someone says something like that to you, you're usually supposed to reply with something… well, anything, really. At least tell me if I'm just a toy, or… Or if you really don't care. But you saved me…. again. And you keep doing these things that confuse me, and—"

"You shouldn't have said it," he interrupted, his tone flat. And it stung.

"Well, I did—"

"You shouldn't have _said_ it."

"What does that even mean?"

There was a momentary pause. "Because it changes nothing."

"What…? You mean… with Yamcha? With what's going to happen to me?"

"It changes _nothing_!" he shouted, and Bulma jumped. She felt him let go of her and back away. She felt the bed move and the mattress fold as he sat upright. She gulped. "Nothing will change, so why bother saying something so useless?"

"It's not useless to me… I wanted to say it, so I did. And yea, maybe I regret it a little, but I regret how you're reacting, _not_ how I feel."

"That's exactly my point," he growled, but his voice was getting calmer. "Don't just say things because it makes you _feel better_."

"Then why do you kiss me? And why no one else? And why did you save me? Why do act like you care about me if you don't?"

"Are you stupid?" he spat, and another period of silence followed. "Nothing changes, woman," he said, after Bulma calmed her breathing. "What you said brings expectations. Expectations that I'm not willing to meet. You're going to go through with the mating, and you're going to have an Earthling child for my father. Now, you can either come back here when it's over and live your life as you have been. Or you can throw your ridiculous expectations on me and get let down. It's your choice."

"So… what you're saying is that you care… just not enough…"

"Enough? _Enough_?! Enough for _what_?" She felt him flip over and hold himself over her. She could feel his breath in her face and his legs beside each of hers. She felt his palms dig into the pillow on either side of her head. She could almost feel the heat coming off of his chest and settling down to rest on her upper body. "I'm not here to _help_ you. I'm not here to make you _feel_ better. You _work_ for me. I give you a place to stay and I make sure you're _fed_ and _clothed_ and now it's not _enough_?!"

"That's not what I'm saying—"

"Then what are you saying?!"

"I'm not ungrateful to you. And I get that we have this… unspoken thing between us, whatever it is, but—"

"Don't you get it?! _I can't stop my father_!" he screamed, and Bulma's eyes went wide in the dark, desperately searching for his face and what expression he had. But she couldn't see him, and then his mouth descended on hers again, urgently. And his body dropped slowly, and she felt his weight on top of her, pressing down, nearly choking her. But after a few seconds, he placed his elbows on the bed and took some of his weight back. Bulma barely had time to think because his lips parted in the next second and his tongue slid between hers.

She gasped when she felt teeth, and he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it. She took a moment to breathe as he grunted and shifted, moving his mouth to the side, nipping her jawline. Bulma shivered when she felt his breath in her hair, and an unusual noise came out of her when his tongue met her ear. She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, but not before his teeth came out again and nibbled her. She let out a moan, and squirmed. She'd never heard that noise come out of her own mouth before, and she knew her face was getting hot. She could barely think…

His mouth moved down to her neck and he kissed her down to her shoulder, using his teeth again. Something stung for a moment and she yelped. The prince chuckled and moved further down, but Bulma knew that something strange was happening. The butterflies were back, and stronger than ever before. But it didn't feel right… She didn't want this… Not now.

"Vegeta," she breathed, placing one hand on his shoulder, and the other on top of his head. She gave him a light shove and he exhaled as he complied. But then Bulma regained her mind and something inside of her clicked. It finally hit her, and she felt so stupid for not realizing it until now… "Vegeta," she whispered again, this time sadly. She understood.

He did care…

But at the same time, he couldn't. And it was for the very same reasons that she couldn't care about him. Their worlds were too far apart… And it wouldn't work. Vegeta would have to defy his father and his planet in order to save her from her fate. And from what happened the last time he got into a fight with the king, Vegeta didn't stand a chance against the man… And she was just a servant. If she were to admit that she cared for him, she would be thrown out, or worse. And it wasn't even about her. If Vegeta were to care about anyone… For a Saiyan, that was only a weakness. For a Saiyan prince… it could mean death. His, or hers. God… she felt so stupid.

"You're right…," she said, lowering her eyes in the dark. She was grateful that he kept the lights off. "I shouldn't have said it." She reached a hand up and felt for his face. She caressed him for a moment before she felt him slump into her hand. And she just listened to him breathe for a little while.

He rolled off of her, onto his back, their shoulders touching, and grabbed her hand on his face. He pulled her wrist down so that her palm was face-down on his chest. He placed his hand over hers and pushed in a little. Bulma couldn't help but smile when she felt his heartbeat. And the rise and fall of his chest was steady and slow…

"You're tired," she whispered, and she flipped onto her side, facing him. She lifted her head and rested it on his shoulder. He was so warm…

"Not yet," he whispered back.

Without warning, he grabbed her hand again and brought it down to his waistband. He pushed his lips into her hair and for the first time, Bulma didn't even make a sound. She just laid there… and waited until he moved his hand back, leaving hers half on his waist and half on the top of his shorts. He didn't say anything, but she listened to his breathing pick up, especially when she bent a couple of her fingers, gently scraping the tips of her nails on his bare skin.

Bulma suddenly got a sense of déjà vu. This happened once before, after that night where the prince had forced her to lay beside him while he fucked one of his many whores. And after the night was over, she'd woken and… it had been something like this. But at the same time, very different.

"Vegeta, I…—"

"Touch me," he breathed, and her own breath got caught in her throat. What was so different this time? She wanted to think it was the same—he wanted her to do this just as much as last time. And she was still just as hesitant. But this time…

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. But before he even answered her, she gently slid her middle finger under his waistband, feeling his lower body shiver for a fleeting moment.

"You still don't get it?" he asked, and the question was rhetorical. It had to be. Of course she understood, now. But understanding didn't make her less sad. If anything, finally understanding seemed like a heavy burden. After all, how could two people genuinely care about one another, and yet agree to never admit it? Especially after she'd already blurted it out before. It just didn't feel right.

But at the same time, it felt good. Although she was well aware that the prince could just be lying to her to get what he wanted, she could feel something. There were moments, however brief, that made her feel cared for… loved, even. She slid her ring finger under his waistband. And after a few moments, her hand and wrist were between the slippery silk of his shorts and the warmth of his skin. Her whole arm felt hot, and so did her face.

"I… I don't really know…"

His upper body tilted towards her and her wrapped his thick arms around her shoulders and her head, and she felt his mouth move through her hair. He just barely kissed her forehead before nuzzling her again.

Bulma gulped and slowly moved her hand down until she touched something… not _something_. She knew exactly what it was, but her brain was too focused on how nervous she was getting. She'd seen him with no clothes on hundreds of times. Granted, they were all glances, and she always looked away as soon as she could, but… she'd listened to this man fuck women all day and night, rock the bed so hard it creaked for the whole castle to hear. And here she was, barely able to even start.

She licked her lips and closed her eyes, trying to calm her drumbeat of a heart. Her ribs felt like they were going to bruise from how hard it was hitting her chest. Over and over. Over and over.

She stretched out her fingers until she could feel him on her fingertips, burning up. He was already hard, and it had been pulling on his shorts the whole time, stretching them forward. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around him as best she could and squeezed a little. He didn't move. He didn't even make a sound. She tried not to think too hard about it. Keeping her eyes closed, she slowly moved her hand up and then pumped him back down. She felt his lips part and he exhaled, his breathing right next to her ear. Her butterflies started coming back…

She did it again. And again, until she found a rhythm that felt good to her. She still wasn't sure what she was doing, and the prince's silence wasn't helping. For another minute, they stayed that way. He held onto her, but he didn't move and he barely made a sound, save for his breathing.

"Is it… Does it feel… okay?" Bulma whispered, and he just nodded, his face rubbing against hers. And after another minute, she heard his breathing finally get a little rougher. She tried pumping him a little faster, and she was rewarded with a light noise in his next exhale.

He grunted and reached down with one hand, placing his palm over hers. She paused what she was doing and he ripped off his shorts, throwing them on the other side of the bed. Then he grabbed her hand around him and squeezed. He pumped himself through her hand a few times before leaning his head down and matching his lips with hers. He let go of her hand and went back to holding her.

Bulma kissed him back and tried mimicking his movements on him, but she noticed how this kiss was different from the others. This time, his mouth moved slowly, almost like something was holding him back. She realized why when she moved her hand harder and faster and his lips just parted, and she kissed his lower lip, but he didn't move until she finally got what she'd been waiting for. Vegeta's whole body shook for a moment and he moaned. And then he grunted and went back to kissing her hard.

Bulma couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face, and she hoped to god that he didn't notice. And if he did, he didn't say anything about it.

It was easier for her to move her hand with his shorts out of the way, so she let her wrist do all the work and she continued pumping him. She couldn't deny that her arm was getting a little tired, but the rewards were just too good for her to stop. And something else in her brain told her that she wouldn't be able to, even if she wanted to.

Vegeta let out another moan and this time his legs shook the bed and she felt it for a second. His noises were coming more frequently now. In less than another minute, he did it again, this time grabbing her by her hair and pulling. Bulma yelped and he loosened his grip, but only to nuzzle her harder. She didn't even know how long she'd been rubbing him anymore.

"Fuck," he whispered suddenly. His voice was hoarse and breathy, and something warm abruptly erupted between her legs. She squeezed them together and focused on not slowing her hand. She was definitely tired, but whatever she was doing, she knew he was enjoying it. " _Fuck_ ," he repeated, and another round of moans hit him. Bulma barely noticed when she let a moan slip between her lips as well.

He quickly rolled onto his back, releasing her to grab at the sheets on his sides, digging his fingernails into the mattress. Bulma lifted her head and watched as his eyes lidded and he stared at the ceiling, his breathing loud and heavy. Her own lips parted, her mouth dry as all hell, and she ignored the tingling in her arm and pumped him faster.

" _Fuck!"_ he shouted. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his head on the pillow under him. Bulma didn't stop, but she jumped when his body suddenly convulsed. And then he shuddered again. And again, and she realized that something hot was dripping down her hand. She slowed, but didn't stop. He convulsed again, and immediately rolled over to face her. He grabbed her and held her tight as his body shook against hers, his moans lighter and longer with each breath. She looked at him as she continued moving her hand up and down, smearing the warm liquid over them both. His eyes were shut, and his lips slightly parted. But then his eyes squeezed tighter and he gritted his teeth. His body tensed up and he shuddered again.

"Ah— _no_ ," he groaned, reaching his hand down and placing it over hers. She slowed, but he squeezed her hand tighter, making her stop completely. " _Easy_ ," he breathed, and slowly he opened his eyes to look at her. And Bulma couldn't help herself.

"I love you," she whispered. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. When he opened them, his expression was content. He leaned forward and gently kissed her on the cheek. Bulma flushed, wondering how red her face could possibly be by now.

She pulled back her hand once he moved his and she lifted it up. It was just barely dark enough so that she couldn't see what the hot liquid looked like, but she knew what it looked like… She'd seen it on too many women that came in here. Unfortunately, her thoughts getting the better of her, she was hit with a wave of sadness. She dug her face into Vegeta's chest before he could see anything, and thankfully it seemed like it worked.

"Sleep," he breathed, holding onto her. He pulled her as close as she could possibly be, save for her shirt between them. "You haven't slept in two days."

"Neither have you," she mumbled into him, and she felt him silently laugh.

"And whose fault is that?"

"That little bitch-princess." She paused. "And if it's going to be like this… I mean, us… like this… Well, you know what I mean…"

"Hmm?"

"You know you can't sleep with her. It's not right."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he grumbled. "Just sleep."

For some reason, she knew even without looking that he was rolling his eyes at her. And she couldn't stop the smile from breaking out on her face. She lifted her arms up and hugged him tight.

"Don't think I'll forget."

"Oh, I know you won't," he said. "And next time, if you leave your clothes on, I'm ripping them off."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen:**

Bulma lay in a field of bright green grass. A small stream ran clear-blue beside her and the scent in the air was of lavender and something she didn't recognize, but still good. She looked up at the sky, which was covered in a layer of thin white clouds. Something about this place was nostalgic to her. She closed her eyes and breathed for a while, relaxing under the warmth of the sun. She smiled to herself.

This was nice. She wished it could always be like this—calm… warm.

She sat upright and stretched, looking to the sky once again. Everything was so bright. And green. Something about this place was familiar to her. It didn't look anything like Planet Vegeta. And it felt so much better than the cold aura of the Saiyan castle. It felt like… home.

She looked across the stream to a tree. She knew it. She remembered those big roots and how they twisted and turned in and out of the ground, like art. She remembered hiding there—hiding from something—and digging her nails into the mud. But it wasn't muddy now. The ground looked dry, as if it hadn't rained in days. And the tree wasn't the same, either. It was different—bigger, greener. The leaves were bushier. The trunk was thicker and darker and the branches spread wider. It was healthy and happy under the sun.

She heard a voice call her and she turned… and she almost cried.

"Mom," she whispered, standing.

The blonde woman just smiled at her, the way she always used to, eyes crinkling. She held out her open arms. Bulma grinned so hard it hurt and stood, running at her with everything she had.

"Mom," she repeated, crying tears of joy. She ran right into the woman's arms and smiled, holding her tight. "I missed you so much." She lifted her head, not wanting to miss a second of this face—this face she thought she'd forgotten. She was so glad she hadn't. "I love you so much," she laughed, tears dripping down her cheeks and neck. And she continued smiling that crinkly smile. That smile that said "I'm proud of you. I love you, too."

She didn't wake up violently. In fact, it was kind of nice. The aura remained as she woke. She felt happy, nostalgic and calm. And the warmth from the sun was as strong as ever, even though she knew there was no sun in here.

She blinked her eyes open slowly, and squeezed tighter, not wanting to let her mother go again. But she knew even before she opened her eyes that it was a dream. And her mother was gone. And there was no field of green grass and clear-blue streams. And that tree died long ago, along with her planet. The dream was just a fantasy—an illusion. And yet she couldn't stop herself from feeling like she'd actually just been there.

Half-asleep, she looked up. And she saw him.

His face was calm, too. His lips were slightly parted, and his breathing was slow. His eyes were shut, but she could see them move a bit in his sleep. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and Bulma realized that she was still holding him. And he was warm… This was her sun.

She closed her eyes and pushed the side of her face into his chest.

Why did it have to be him?

Out of anyone on this savage planet… Out of everyone in the entire universe, why was it that this man made her feel warm? Why did laying here with him calm her? Why did sleeping beside him make her nostalgic for better days and safety? Why did being here now make her feel so free? Because she wasn't free. And she wasn't safe. While being calm was a ruse and nostalgia was for the weak…

She exhaled and gently pulled herself even closer to him. His warmth radiated from his bare skin, making those annoying butterflies come back. And she remembered what she'd done… She'd given in to him. What he'd been waiting for—she just gave it to him. She wanted to hold onto her dignity and whatever else she could scavenge from the scraps of her life, and yet she'd thrown away her pride and she did exactly what she thought she'd never do. She gave in.

But she couldn't bring herself to regret it, strangely enough. The feel of his skin on her fingertips was electric, and she ran her hand over his side, down past his waistline, feeling the side of his hip before tracing the lines of muscle in his stomach, and up the middle of his chest. She rolled her fingers over his shoulder and went back to holding him, and for some reason she felt genuinely special. Despite everything she told herself, she knew that this was something she'd never seen him do with another woman—just lay here, until morning. Sleeping, with all his walls and guards down. In general, she knew he didn't like to be touched for no reason, and yet she knew that she could. She knew that if he woke and she wanted to run her hands down his body, he would let her. And that was exciting. It made the butterflies go crazy.

On the other hand, it was strange for him to not wake while she felt him. She never knew him to be such a heavy sleeper, unless he was having a dream.

As if he read her mind, he moved, his hand circling from her stomach to her side, and it rested there, in the crevice between her hipbone and the bottom of her ribcage. It felt like it fit perfectly. And he pulled her a bit, as if the non-existent distance between their upper bodies was still too far.

Bulma felt a small smile creep its way to her lips. She breathed slowly for a few minutes before closing her eyes. But just as she was about to fall back asleep, a knock at the door jolted her awake. And as soon as she jumped, the prince's hand on her side tightened, and he pulled her harder against him. He groaned and curled inward a bit. She felt his legs hit hers and his mouth met the top of her head. His hand slid to her back as another knock came, and she listened to him grumble in his half-sleep.

"I'll get it," she whispered, pushing on his chest. But he didn't let her go. His hand stayed on her lower back, keeping them touching. "V… Vegeta, the door…" Another knock came and Bulma struggled to push away from him, wondering if her was really awake or not.

She looked up at him just as his eyes squinted open and their gazes met. Bulma's lips parted and she gulped. She wanted to look away, but the distance between them was too much.

Immediately, he leaned his head down and kissed her, pulling her up from his hand on her back. She gasped when he pulled her harder and their faces were less than an inch apart, even when he broke the kiss. And she watched as his eyes lidded and he nodded off again. She stared at his face, wondering when he got so cute…

Bulma mentally shook her head. God, what was wrong with her? It was fine and clearly uncontrollable for her to love someone, but Vegeta… _cute_? She was obviously starving to death and probably sleep-deprived from waking up in the middle of the night. But there was filtered light coming in through the curtains outside the double doors, and she knew it was way past morning. She even felt like she'd slept for twelve hours.

Their noses almost touching, she barely had to move at all to press her lips against his. And when she did, she felt his mouth twitch a little against hers, his eyes still closed. She kissed him again, but in his next inhale he started lightly snoring and Bulma had to stop herself from laughing in his face—literally.

The knock at the door came again, this time louder, and the prince grunted and flipped onto his back, turning his head away and letting go of her side. Bulma pursed her lips and moved a little closer to him, shuffling her way along the bed. He moved his other arm and she realized she'd been using it as a pillow this whole time. And as she lifted her head, he pulled it back and her head hit the mattress. She frowned at how flat it was without his arm there.

The knock came yet again, louder than ever, and more persistent. It went on for almost twenty seconds and she finally heard Vegeta growl. She watched as his eyes opened and his face turned sour—so much for being cute—and he turned to lock eyes with her again. Bulma flushed, but watched as his eyes slowly looked down and stared.

Before she could ask what he was doing, she caught a glimpse of herself and looked down. And screamed, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up to her chin. The damn baggy tank top had moved in her sleep, and her chest had been fully exposed—pushed up, even. God, her nipples had been stiff, too. She panted and squirmed to move farther away from him, but frowned when he just rolled his eyes and put his gaze back on the ceiling.

" _What_?" she stammered, but he ignored her as another round of knocking came. She heard him mutter something under his breath, that sounded a lot like cursing and plenty of badmouthing. He angrily threw the covers off himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood, fully nude, and stomped over to the door, swinging it open in an obvious rage. Bulma couldn't help but notice his erection sticking up. She tried to look away, but he wasn't watching her, so she glanced a little longer than usual, remembering the feel of it in her hands… How it twitched and pulsed and got harder and hotter. The ridges running back and forth over her palm and that veiny feeling when he finally—

" _What is it?!_ " Vegeta shouted at whoever was on the other side of the doorway. Bulma immediately felt bad for whoever it was, but her thoughts changed when she heard the voice of a woman reply. She couldn't make out words, but she didn't like the way it sounded. It was soothing and almost seductive. Bulma fixed her shirt, stuffed herself back in, and rolled herself to the edge of the large bed. She quietly stood and tiptoed over to the double doors, staying on the one step that separated the bedroom from the rest of the prince's chambers.

She took that one step down and peered around the open door, finding exactly what she thought she heard—a tall, purple-skinned woman with fluorescent green hair smiled at the prince, one hand on her hip as she stood to one side, one leg kicking out in front of her with a pair of bright white heels. She wore a short white skirt and a white crop top, with pointy nipples looking like they were about to poke through the thin fabric.

"So, what do you say, handsome?" she smirked, looking him up and down. But then she noticed Bulma and smirked even wider. "And I see you've been playing with inexperienced girls these days." She pointed to Vegeta, motioning at his body and Bulma glanced at the prince. She stared wide-eyed at the crusty milk-like residue from last night, spread all up his stomach. She involuntarily looked at her hand. "The poor girl couldn't even swallow properly," the purple-skinned woman snickered. "Why don't you let me take it from here, little girl." She took one step forward, but Vegeta didn't move out of the way.

Bulma looked back and forth between the two a few times before anyone made a sound.

"Not now," Vegeta finally said and Bulma couldn't help but smirk back at the woman. But after a few moments, she paused. Wait… Not _now_?

"Excuse me?" the woman gawked. "You're going to let her try to _redeem_ herself?" she asked, waving him up and down. "Or are you just going to take care of that yourself?" She pointed to his erection. "Because from this point of view it looks like your hand would do a better job than that little—"

"I said _not now_ ," Vegeta said, and the threat was obvious. The woman pressed her lips together, probably wondering if she was already dead, and averted her eyes.

"Fine. I'll come back later then," she huffed, turning on her spiked heels and whirling around before stomping off down the hall. Vegeta immediately closed the door and turned, not looking at her. Bulma just watched his back for a second.

"Wh… What are you doing?" she asked, her voice barely coming out of her throat. "Vegeta…"

She watched as the prince closed his eyes and breathed in slow, and then out. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Prepare me a shower, woman," he said, and Bulma frowned.

"What was that?" she asked quietly, looking at the ground.

"What was what?"

She stayed quiet, not sure how to talk to him about this. She felt like if she started talking about how she felt, he would laugh in her face. He'd made it clear that their relationship wasn't… normal. So, maybe this kind of thing wasn't in the rulebook for… whatever it was they were doing together.

"That woman is going to come back," she decided to say, looking at the ground. But she couldn't go any further than that. She couldn't say that she didn't like it. She couldn't say that she was going to get jealous or upset or anything, because it wasn't her place. And it made her sad because she knew that was the truth.

"You know you're always welcome to watch," he replied flatly. "Or join."

"Nothing changes, right?" she whispered. Her voice was low and she could barely hear herself, but she knew he heard her.

There was silence for a moment, before the prince let out an exasperated sigh, as if she was a child talking about things she didn't understand. Bulma finally looked up and frowned at him. The least he could do was be a little understanding.

"Woman, I have hundreds of whores, who have been specifically trained to please me. What do you think would happen if I suddenly just started turning them all away?" He sat on the end of the bed and leaned forward, staring at her. He was still naked. And still hard. It took everything she had to not look below his face, even though he spread his legs, as if to test her self-control. It made her hate him a little in that moment.

"I guess you'd have a bunch of useless prostitutes," Bulma frowned.

"If I suddenly started sending them away, the entire castle would know about it within the _week_ ," he said, lifting an eyebrow. "It would cause unnecessary problems."

"Like what?" She crossed her arms, feeling more and more like a child, as what he explained to her began to make sense. And she hated that it made sense.

"Why is this a problem?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "You won't even allow me to touch you half the time. And if I suddenly stopped using my women, the entire castle would know about it, including my father. And any female suspected of being the reason for that would become a target, and you've taken up residence in my room… Not only that, but—"

"It makes me jealous," she said, without thinking.

" _What_?"

"I would get… jealous," Bulma frowned again, and Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her. So much for saying how she felt. She knew that wouldn't get her anywhere.

"Not that you would understand, but as a Saiyan male I have physical needs that _don't_ involve food and water."

"Yea, like a _shower_." She pursed her lips.

"You made this mess," Vegeta grunted, waving his hand towards himself and the crusted goo on his lower stomach. "You should be the one to clean it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does it bother you that I'm not going to _lick_ it off you like that whore was going to do? Maybe you should invite her back then."

He frowned at her. "I can't turn them all away."

"You can't or you don't _want_ to?"

"Both." There was more silence and Bulma kept looking at the ground. "Look at me," he said, and a few seconds later, he pressed, " _Look at me_." And Bulma looked up at him, legs spread, erection still in place. She looked away again and listened to him speak. "On average, how many times a day do those women show up?" Bulma didn't answer, but he kept talking. "Usually one or two, right? So, coming off of that, do you really expect me to just stop? And that's _ignoring_ that fact that you won't even let me fuck you—"

"You're right," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I _won't_." He narrowed his eyes back at her and they just stayed like that for a little while. Bulma didn't even know how to respond. It was true, that he fucked women daily, and she didn't know why she ever thought that _she_ could be a reason for him to stop. She knew that men had those kinds of physical needs, and Saiyans had them more than any other species she knew of, but… The way he explained it… "So, even if I had slept with you last night… you still wouldn't turn them away…"

He paused before answering, as if he was thinking of changing the subject. "Why would I?"

Bulma didn't know how to explain the concept of cheating, since it was probably just a term from her species. And even if he did understand, it wouldn't change anything. There was no such thing as dating on this planet, and even in Saiyan marriages, the men always had mistresses and concubines, aside from their wives. Hell, King Vegeta had multiple wives, as well as countless mistresses. And he probably had specially-trained whores, too.

This was why she fantasized about Yamcha before… Because, as two people from Earth, he was supposed to love her and protect her, and be with her, and _only_ her. That was how she used to see her future—with a man that wanted nothing but her, saw no one but her… There was no such thing here. And what she wanted would never happen. Her best chance of being with Vegeta was to be one of his mistresses—to share him with others, and be beneath the women he would end up marrying… Less important… And even though he made her feel special sometimes, she felt as if he could throw her away without a second thought. There were so many women in the universe, after all.

The thought of marriage instantly dampened her mood, as if it wasn't damp enough already. She'd never even thought of that before… Vegeta would one day have to marry someone—if not multiple someones—to unite planets or species. He would have to have children with a full-blooded Saiyan female, at the very least, to continue his royal bloodline. He was already being forced to have a child with the Warkinds, and Bulma had the feeling that even if he somehow managed to get out of doing it with that princess-brat, there would be someone to soon take her place. And then, she would just be another mistress… While he had children with other women… women who would take priority over her…

God, she was thinking too much. One night being close to him like that and she was starting to think about marriage and children and mistresses. She needed some fresh air. She needed to stop thinking like a crazy chambermaid and start planning for her future… Her future with Yamcha's child…

"I'll… I'm going to get some food…" she whispered, quickly grabbing some new, more fitting clothes from the dresser. "I'll bring you back a meal, and… I'll call for a woman to keep you company while I'm gone." She opened the door without looking at him, and whispered, "I'm sorry. I forgot my place, your Highness…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh, he's letting you wear his clothes now?" Maron squealed, clapping her hands together as she entered the baking room. Chichi instantly shot the blue-haired girl a glare, and her eyes softened a bit when she saw Bulma's face. "Oh, jeez. What did he do now?"

"It's not even what he did," Bulma said, "It's what I did."

"Oh my god, you didn't… _Did you_?"

"No, Chichi… Well, it didn't get that far, at least… But, no." She paused. "I don't know why I expected him to care… He just… _acted_ like he did. And I guess I fell for it, like a dumb bi—"

"Bulma!" Chichi yelped. "Listen, I know he's a bit much, but I swear, when he came here looking for you yesterday—and you can ask Goku, too. He was right here with me—he almost lost it when he realized where you were. He went crazy… like, I thought he was going to start blowing up the kitchen. And all he could think about was saving you. I'm not kidding. I saw it in his eyes. Just ask Goku."

"Ask me what?" the spikey-haired Saiyan asked, walking into the bakery with six huge bags of flour in his arms. He set them down on the bench behind Chichi, letting out a big puff of white smoke into the air.

"Thanks, babe. I was just telling Bulma how Vegeta acted when he found out that she was in the dungeons."

"You mean when I thought I was going to have to stop him from destroying the kitchen?"

Chichi laughed. "Yea, that." She looked back at Bulma. "See?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Bulma sighed, sitting down on one of the benches. She put her head in her hands and closed her eyes. "I have less than two weeks and then I'm going to be a mother, whether I like it or not."

The room went silent, and it was obvious why. Chichi had gotten out of the mating because of Goku, and Maron was in the same boat as Bulma—she was going to be a mother, too. It wasn't a good thing to bring up with this crowd, but she couldn't help it.

"It was exciting and all to be treated a little different than everyone else for a time, but he's made it very clear that I'm not as special as… as he made me feel… Or maybe I just stupidly felt it all by myself."

"What are you talking about?" Goku asked, and Bulma looked up when he sounded off. He stared at her as if she had ten heads. "Of course he treats you like you're special. He has you marked."

" _What_?" Chichi burst out, whirling on him. " _Really_? Goku, why didn't you tell me?"

"I… I thought it was obvious…"

"Hello?" Bulma said, waving her hand above her head, "What are you talking about?"

Goku turned back to her. "He has you marked… When you're next to each other, you guys give off a certain scent… I do the same thing with Chichi. It happens between Saiyans and Earthlings to… well, I guess it's to ward off other guys from getting near you… if they can smell it… I mean, yours was a bit weak, but it was definitely there. It gets a lot stronger once you've mated."

"I'm _not_ going to sleep with him," Bulma barked.

Chichi rolled her eyes. "Well, you _just_ said you did something with him—"

"I can smell it on you," Goku said, lifting an eyebrow. "It's all over your arm. Any other Saiyan would be able to smell it, too, you know." Bulma flushed bright red and looked away. She'd scrubbed her hand and arm before coming here. How could he smell it?

"It doesn't matter. I did it. Whatever. I was stupid to think that it would make any difference, but he still treats me like shit. I legit woke up this morning and he told me that he's still going to sleep with all his prostitutes. And I tried to tell him that it made me feel weird, which he should already know, and he just brushed me off. I ended up leaving and getting the girl to come back anyway, so he's probably fucking her as we speak… He doesn't give a damn about me… about anything."

"He's a needy guy," Maron piped in, rolling out some dough. "And you just said that you're not going to sleep with him, so of course he's just going to get it somewhere else." She shrugged and Bulma glared at her. That wasn't the point…

"Well, it's not that he doesn't care about you," Goku said, lifting an eyebrow. "It's just the position he's in. As the future leader of Planet Vegeta, he can't exactly be with an Earthling… It just wouldn't work out, for plenty of reasons. But I can guarantee that if you're in danger… Well, you saw how he reacted in the dungeons. And the mating… I don't know if he told you or not, but both the king and his heir are required to sit on the throne and watch during a true mating. So, when the time comes… to be honest, I'm not sure if Vegeta has what it takes to actually sit and watch that happen to you… And that could be one of many things bothering him."

"He… he's going to have to watch?" Bulma stammered. "No… he didn't tell me that…"

"Bulma…" Goku said sadly, lowering his head. He paused for a moment and took a deep breath before continuing. "I only know this because I've been training with Vegeta since we were kids… and you can never tell him that you know, but… The king murdered Vegeta's mother when we were little, and… Well, I don't know the full story, but ever since then, Vegeta has always talked about women as… complications. And I know he gets that from his father, but… He was taught to use women for whatever he wants and then throw them away. And getting attached to someone like that is… forbidden, in a sense. The king would torture him and have you killed for sure if he even got a hint of that from Vegeta… To him, you would just be a weakness for him to remove. And I'm not trying to scare you, but Vegeta isn't going to be able to just dismiss that side of himself, either. He grew up thinking that women were just… a weakness." He looked at Chichi and smiled. "But he doesn't realize the strength that comes from it."

Bulma sighed. "It would be so much easier if he could just take some time to explain this to me himself…"

"That's just not who he is," Goku said, wearing a half-smile. "If I had to guess, I'd say he's just trying to sort out whatever's going through his head. And he's trying to keep you alive. He's not thinking about how you feel or how his decisions are going to affect you, besides physically."

"That makes sense," Chichi said, giving her best friend a reassuring smile. "If the prince knows that you're in danger if anyone finds out that he cares about you, then of course he would want to put some distance between the two of you."

"And he's right. About the women that he keeps. And even about the mating. It sucks, but I can see how he's doing it to protect you…"

"Sleeping with other people _isn't_ protecting me. And I can't believe he has to watch… And he knew this whole time and didn't say anything."

"Why don't you show him how it feels and go sleep with someone else, too?" Maron said, smirking. Chichi glowered at her and Goku blinked a few times before looking confused as all hell.

"I don't think that trying to prove a point would help them right now," he said to her. Maron just snickered and went back to rolling out dough.

"I can't pretend to be okay with it," Bulma said. "I can't go back to his room and tell him that it's okay and I'm fine with it. I can't just ignore that it makes me feel like shit, and that I just have to let it happen anyway… because it keeps me safe? That's ridiculous."

"Don't you get it? It's the same for him with the mating," Goku frowned. "I can tell you for sure that he's _not_ okay with it, and it definitely puts him in a bad mood. But he has to let it happen anyway in order to protect you."

"Then why can't he do what _you_ did?" Bulma asked, already knowing the answer. "Why can't he claim me and then just say that I'm one of many? He doesn't have to act like I'm important or special, but he could at least _try_ …"

"I think this _is_ him trying, Bulma…" Chichi frowned. "He's letting you stay in his room. He obviously wants to keep you safe. And it sounds like he's doing it this way because he thinks it's his only option."

"Is it, though?" Bulma asked, and she found herself looking to Goku, who just pursed his lips and slowly nodded. She looked away. "I don't want it to be like this," she sighed. "I don't want to just be some secret that he keeps and uses when it's convenient for him. I don't want to be one of many…"

"But you're not," Goku added, his half-smile coming back. "He's attached to you. He cares about you. For a Saiyan and an Earthling, that's a pretty special combination. And even though he's got a rock for a brain sometimes, he knows that. He has to be able to feel it… You never know—maybe it scares him."

"What do you mean?"

"Chichi and I… Well, I can feel her, more than a Saiyan could feel anyone else in the world. Even if she's halfway across the planet, I can tell if she's hurt, or scared. I can tell if her heart speeds up or if the air around her is too cold for her… It wasn't noticeable before we mated, but… Vegeta already has that for you. Like I said, when you two were next to each other, the scent he gave off was a warning to other males to stay away from you. And I don't think he realizes that yet. He does a little, but I don't think it's really clicked yet."

"But we haven't… mated," Bulma said, hoping she wasn't turning red. But when she looked up, Goku had a pained expression on his face. "W…What?" Bulma asked.

"I just thought of something…" he said, and pain was written all over his face. He glanced at Chichi, who looked back at him, confused.

"What?" Bulma pressed, and Goku turned back to her.

"I know you said you don't want to mate with him, but… if you change your mind, I would wait until after the mating to do it, because…" He trailed off, looking back at Chichi. "Having to watch something like that would be horrible by itself, but… I think, if Vegeta was fully mated to you, and he felt this kind of connection… He wouldn't be able to control himself if you were in that much distress, right in front of him… I know I wouldn't be able to. Even if I knew… in the back of my mind… that you could die…" He trailed off again and Bulma watched as Chichi dropped what she was doing and ran over to him, grabbing him and holding him tight. Bulma had to look away as he lifted his arms and pulled her against him, stuffing his face in her hair.

"He cares about you, Bulma," Chichi finally said, and she spoke over Goku's shoulder. "I doubt that there's an easy solution to any of this… But I think that it'll all work out eventually. It really is something special when a Saiyan loves you… Trust me."

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Bulma looked at the ground the entire walk back to the prince's chambers. And she made sure to take her time, like she said she would. She only looked up when she heard giggling, and knew she was getting close to her destination.

A group of four young women, all dressed in drab clothing, huddled around the door to Vegeta's room. They couldn't have been much past fifteen years-old. Their giggling was quiet, but they were shushing each other and waving their hands around, too. Bulma frowned, but walked over to them anyway. One had her ear pressed up against the door, and every so often she would jump, and the others would smile and start giggling again.

"Excuse me," Bulma said, "What are you doing?"

One of the young women looked over at her and started angrily shushing her, but Bulma just rolled her eyes. She watched as the one girl jumped again and the rest of them ignored Bulma and started whispering amongst themselves, with that annoying giggling.

As she got closer, and she was a few feet from the door, she finally realized what was going on, and she wished she'd stayed away a little longer. A long, low moan came from the other side of the door, and the four young women went back to snickering. Bulma stood frozen as a more high-pitched yelping noise began and kept going, as if on repeat, for a good ten seconds. And one of the four girls finally lost it. Her voice barked out in laughter. Two of them immediately bolted, escaping down the hall. The two that remained covered their mouths to try and stop the laughing, but the silence that followed scared them, too, and they ran down the hall. Bulma just watched them, and as they rounded a corner and disappeared, the door opened behind her. She turned to find a familiar, purple-skinned, fully nude woman standing under the doorway, panting heavily. And when her eyes met Bulma's, she gave her the nastiest look.

"Was that you?!" she panted, clearly barely able to catch her breath, "Were you laughing outside the door?! I would've figured you'd start _crying_ , because you're missing out, you little whore!"

"Look who's talking…" Bulma frowned.

"Woman!" Vegeta barked from inside the room. Bulma crossed her arms over her chest, using them to press down on her heart as it raced. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second before opening them.

"Answer him!" the woman screamed, saliva hitting Bulma in the face. She took another few seconds to close her eyes and stop herself from having an unpleasant reaction. " _Now_!" Bulma slowly opened her eyes and dropped her gaze to the floor, forcing herself to stay that way for a moment. She breathed, slowly, in and out, before turning on her heel and walking back the way she'd come from. Obviously, those two needed much more time than what she'd given them. Goku and Chichi probably didn't want to be bothered anymore today, so Launch was her best option. Plus, she hadn't seen or spoken to her friend in—

" _Woman_!"

Bulma whirled, half-expecting him to be mad about her not answering him. But she had a right to leave, especially if he was with another woman. There was no way he could expect her to stay there with the two of them… But she was face-to-face with the naked woman, who raised her hand high above her head. Bulma's eyes went wide and she gasped, putting her hands up to shield her face.

"I said _answer him_!" the woman screamed, more saliva hitting Bulma, this time in the forehead. And she flinched when she heard the sound of the slap, but she didn't feel anything. So, slowly, she opened one eye and looked… "M-My Lord…" the woman stammered, "I… I… I didn't mean… I didn't…"

"Get out of my sight," Vegeta snarled, and the woman was gone in a flash. Bulma looked up just in time to see a pink hue on Vegeta's cheek disappear as he turned. Thankfully, he'd thrown on a pair of boxers before stepping out into the hall. "Aren't you forgetting something?" he groaned, not looking at her, and Bulma froze. She was more in shock from the simple fact that Vegeta had been struck and no one was dead… But his question pulled her back. It only took her a second to realize…

"My food—"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she shouted, immediately covering her face with her hands. She couldn't believe that she'd actually forgotten. What was even more surprising was the fact that she hadn't eaten anything, either. She'd wound up talking with Chichi and Goku, and she got too into their conversation to even remember that she was starving. "I'll go get it! I'll be right back!"

"I'm going, too," he said, but he turned and headed back for the open door behind him. "Wait for me there."

Bulma just nodded at him and waited outside the open door. When he came back out into the hall, he was fully dressed. She inhaled deeply as he walked by, wondering if she'd smell anything relating to his time with that woman. But she couldn't smell anything. She could barely even smell his usual scent. Her and her goddamn Earthling senses. She followed him all the way back to the kitchens, realizing that she'd never seen him go in here before. This was… strange.

And as he barged in, loudly swinging the doors open, both Chichi and Goku were just as surprised. They turned and froze. But loosened up a little when they saw their friend standing behind him. She waved at Chichi when Vegeta wasn't looking and she smirked back, a silly expression on her face.

"Make me a meal fit for a prince," Vegeta barked. "I want it in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir," Maron said with a grin, dashing over to the refrigerators and swinging open the doors. She stuck her whole head inside as she went searching for… whatever it was she was planning on making.

"And _you_ ," Vegeta snarled, pointing at Goku, who pointed back at himself in confusion. "I need to speak with you. Now." He motioned for the spikey-haired Saiyan to walk with him, and Goku followed him out into the hall without hesitation, leaving Bulma and Chichi alone. The black-haired girl cocked her head to one side as she started making a seafood salad.

"What's that all about?"

"I forgot his food," Bulma said, lowering her eyes to the floor. "Speaking of which, I haven't eaten anything in almost two days, and I even forgot about that, too."

"There's a first time for everything," Chichi shrugged. "I was going to mention something when you just left without taking anything, but I thought maybe you were just here to talk… You never forget about your job… Are you letting your _feelings_ get in the way?" she smirked, and Bulma elbowed her in the side. Her friend squealed and turned away, going back to tossing the salad. "I'll make you one, too, you jerk," she laughed, pointing to the seafood mixture.

"Chi… Do you think… Do you think Vegeta is really going to… sit on the throne and watch?"

Chichi frowned. "I don't know."

"That's it?"

She frowned again. "I don't really… know what to say, Bulma. I feel like… it's partially my fault. Maybe if Goku hadn't claimed me, then the king wouldn't have made the new mating rules and… I don't know. It's dumb but I'm really hoping that the prince finds some way to… I don't know…"

"Save me?" Bulma breathed, and Chichi just nodded. "I'm not counting on it."

"I mean… he's the prince of the whole damn planet. What happens if he just says that you're his and no one else is allowed to touch you? Why couldn't that work?"

"I think… he's scared of the king."

"Daddy issues?"

Bulma shook her head. "No, I mean… He thinks that he's not allowed to care about me."

"Maybe he's not…"

Bulma shook her head. That was silly to say, but Chichi hit the nail on the head. He wasn't _allowed_ to care about her… Why hadn't she thought of it like that before? Things were starting to make sense again. He was just reacting like a child doing something that their parent told them not to do—even if that was being a bit under-dramatic, what with death and torture being the repercussions.

"Just look at the bright side," Chichi shrugged, finishing up the plates, "It's like you're in a forbidden romance. It sounds exciting. Like, you can only act like you care about each other in private." She stuck her tongue out and Bulma frowned.

"Yea… maybe if he acted like he cared at all. He treats me like a slave when we're in private. If anything, I'd rather be ignored, like when we're in public."

"Did he treat you like a slave when you gave him a handjob?"

" _Chichi_ ," Bulma whispered, shaking her head.

"Well? Did he?"

"… No." Bulma stared at the counter and the plates piling up there. "No, he was… like a different person. He wasn't violent or rude… I've only ever seen him be gentle a handful of times, and that was one of them. I wish he was like that more often…"

"Why don't you tell him?"

"That's not how he is," Bulma laughed, finally looking up. "If I ever asked him to act a certain way, he'd probably do the opposite just to piss me off."

"Well, that's a bit of a different thing to ask… You never know. Give it a try. When have I been wrong about these things?"

Bulma rolled her eyes at her friend just as Goku and Vegeta came back into the kitchens. Vegeta's many plates were lined up on the counter and Bulma's one plate was at the very end of the buffet line. Bulma watched as Vegeta took a seat as he began eating in silence. He didn't even look at anyone or say anything.

Bulma looked over as Goku walked around Chichi, and he was covering up a smile. He whispered something in her ear, and immediately, both sets of eyes turned to her. Bulma lifted an eyebrow when Chichi's face lit up with a small smile and Goku just nodded at her. She mouthed " _what_ " at the two of them, but Vegeta looked up from his large meal and they both dropped their smirks and started walking away, minding-their-own business-like. Bulma just looked after them in confusion.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen:**

"We're leaving."

Bulma snapped to attention and turned around from her spot on the floor. She'd been cleaning the hardwood flooring under the prince's dresser for the past hour. She didn't know why she hadn't cleaned it in years, but now she was paying the price—dust was stuck to the floor, through a thin layer of sticky yellow stuff… whatever it could be. And once she started scrubbing, it started to stink. So, here she was, an hour later, finishing up. She'd managed to move the large piece of furniture just enough to get under it, but moving it back was going to be a problem. She stood and faced the prince, wiping her brow with the back of her forearm.

"What do you mean, leaving?" she asked, frowning at him. "I have a lot of work to do today. I can't just follow you around until you get bored and send me away. I'll never get anything done that way."

It had been four days now since the ordeal with the dungeon, and after that night… Vegeta was back to ignoring her. After they'd come back from the kitchens, he'd stopped talking to her. He wasn't even making rude comments anymore, and she even found herself missing them. Or at least missing the sound of his voice.

"Watch your tone, woman. My temper is on a short fuse today."

"You mean shorter than usual?" she said, rolling her eyes. She got back on her hands and knees and continued scrubbing the floor. She was more annoyed with the fact that he was finally talking to her, rather than anything else. And he had the audacity to start ordering her around like he was the boss of her… Even though he was.

"Fine," he replied, and she didn't like his tone. "Then I'll go alone. I won't be back for several days. Have this place spotless by the time I get back. If I see a single stain, you'll be punished for disobedience and slacking."

"Several days?" she replied, glancing his way. She knew to take his threats in stride, but that caught her attention. "You're leaving the castle?"

He didn't respond, but he was still looking at her. She lifted an eyebrow at him, but it made his frown deepen. He looked away for a moment and folded his arms. When he turned back, he started glaring, and Bulma almost laughed. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't. She rolled her eyes again and turned back to the floor.

"Okay, then. Don't tell me. I don't need to know, anyway. Have a safe trip. I'll be here."

"Woman," he barked, and Bulma sighed and turned back. "Pack your things."

"I told you. I have a lot of things to do, and I can't—"

"That's an order."

" _Really_?" she frowned, pointing to the floor in front of her. "Have you even looked at this mess?" Then she smirked. "And when have I ever listened to your orders anyway? I'm not going to start now." She knew she was treading in dangerous waters, but she couldn't help herself. He hadn't said a word to her in three days and now, all of a sudden, he thought it was okay to pull her from her job—her real job? "Why do I have to go? Doesn't it make more sense for me to stay here, where I can get things done?"

He gritted his teeth as he glared, and she just watched him, trying to understand. After talking with Chichi, and after finally admitting how she felt, she knew that she would have to try harder to understand him if she wanted things to work out, but it was so… difficult. The way he acted never made sense to her. Even now, what was his goal? She knew he had a superiority complex, so maybe he was just ordering her around to prove a point… but it didn't seem that way. He wouldn't just start after not talking to her for days. And she hadn't done anything to provoke him, either.

But he wasn't answering her. Which either meant that he didn't have a reason, or he didn't want to say it. Maybe he didn't even know the reason why. But how was she supposed to figure it out?

"Fine," he growled, turning away. "Like I said, woman— _spotless_."

Was he seriously pouting? He was such a child sometimes. She mentally rolled her eyes, thinking it wasn't safe for her to do it to him again, and went back to scrubbing. She wiped her brow again with her forearm as she heard his footsteps behind her as he walked towards the bath she'd prepared for him ten minutes ago. She could still hear the water running, and she hoped it hadn't overflowed. Another big mess was the last thing she needed right now—

A lightbulb went off in her head and she stopped cleaning for a moment. He was _pouting_. He never pouted… Or, she was the only person he ever pouted about…

She immediately stood and followed him, and by the time she stepped onto the tiled floor, he'd already pulled his shirt off.

"Vegeta," she said, and he turned to her, narrowing his eyes. "Where are you going, anyway?"

"Servants don't need to know such things."

She sighed. "Just tell me."

"You don't give orders to me. Know your place, or I'll put you there."

She smirked, trying to hide her laugh. Recently, his threats to her were just jokes, as if she knew he wouldn't follow through on any of them. That must have been really recent, though… Because not long ago, she would start shaking when he threatened her. Because he'd always been serious—he'd punished her plenty of times in the past. But those days felt like a lifetime ago, and now… she could only find humor in his words.

"Vegeta," she laughed. "Don't be so tense. Just tell me where you're going." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Where _we're_ going. Okay?"

"You're not going. I've changed my mind," he sneered, and she wasn't sure why, but she looked at him in a way she'd never looked at someone before, and he body moved without thinking.

"But I want to go," she said, stepping towards him. She watched him frown and narrow his eyes. She stepped until she was barely an inch from him. He made a strange noise from his throat and immediately looked off to the left. She didn't bother looking—she knew it was just a blank wall there. She gently wrapped her arms around his bare waist and snuggled into him, feeling him jump. "You wanted me to go just a second ago. What happened? You don't want me to go anymore?"

She tilted her head and looked up at him, and finally he looked back down at her. And moments like these were how she knew he cared—and how she remembered that he did, even when he acted like he didn't. He frowned again as he narrowed his eyes, and he didn't hold her back. But he didn't push her away either. And his expression was… uncomfortable. And just as she realized, he looked away again, back at that blank wall. She smirked, those familiar butterflies hitting her stomach again. This was how she knew.

"Hey," she whispered, leaning up. She put her mouth right next to his, waiting for him to turn back to her and meet her mouth. She watched him grit his teeth for a moment, and it took him quite a few seconds, but he eventually turned and she kissed him, both with eyes open, and pinned to the other's face. "Where are we going?" she asked again, and he went back to looking away from her before he answered.

"I have to scout a new planet," he said, and then he paused, waiting, still not looking at her. Bulma knew he wanted her to let go, and although she didn't want to, she pulled back and released him from her weak grasp. He turned towards the sink and started running the water on cold.

"Scout a planet?" Bulma asked, as he gently splashed his face and turned the water off. He finally turned and looked at her, and this time it was her who became uncomfortable. She felt her eyes want to wander, but she forced herself to meet his gaze.

"We're looking into what their species is good for. Our initial scouts reported that the people are physically weak, much like Earthlings. They also can't reproduce with Saiyans, which means that we'll probably end up making them slaves. Although, the planet has excellent living conditions, so we'll see what we can do with that."

"Is this something that you usually do?" she asked, tilting her head. She couldn't remember him having to do work like this in the past.

"I've done it a couple of times. My father only sends me when he believes the planet is important. Also, I look alike to them. So do you. They have the appearance of a Saiyan or an Earthling, so we'll blend in. We need to make sure they don't know they're being scouted until a decision has been made on what's to be done with the planet and her people."

"So… what do we have to do there?" she tilted her head.

" _You_ get to cook and clean," he snorted, obviously thinking that was amusing. " _I_ am confirming previous reports and making one of my own. It's… involved. It's things like… how violent or passive of a species they are, how difficult it is to reproduce, their physical stamina, natural reactions, resistance to disease… things like that. We're just going to live among them for a few days and watch."

"Sounds like a vacation to me," Bulma said.

"I'll make sure you stay busy."

"Thanks." She rolled her eyes. "How long do I have?"

"Less than an hour," he said, quickly stepping towards her. Bulma jumped and took a few steps back, until she realized that she was being pushed out of the garderobe. "Don't make me late," he said, before shutting the door in her face. Bulma frowned, and stood there, glaring at the door, until she heard the water get turned off, and the slosh of him getting into the tub. She knew just from the sound that some of it hit the floor and she mentally groaned.

She quickly walked over to where she'd been cleaning, and got back on her hands and knees, scrubbing like her life depended on it.

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"I feel like I gave in," Bulma snorted, half-laughing at herself. "I have so much work to do. Now that I started cleaning the nooks and crannies of his goddamn room, who knows what I'm going to find, besides dust and sticky floors. I really should have just stuck it out and told him I can't go."

"What are you talking about?" Chichi laughed. "Isn't this exactly what you need?"

"A vacation? Yes, but not like this, and not in the middle of everything that's going on right now. It feels like running away…"

"That's not what I mean, Bulma. Well, sure, you could use a vacation, but you and Vegeta… going away for a few days… _alone_." She clapped her hands together as Bulma just shook her head. "Come on! Think about it! Goku was on those scouting missions earlier this year and he told me that this planet is a lot like Earth was. So, if anything, don't you want to go check it out, at least?"

"How does he know what Earth was like?" Bulma frowned, and Chichi looked away for a second.

"He… uh… He scouted Earth, too… when he was younger." She looked ashamed, but Bulma couldn't bring herself to try and make her friend feel better… Goku had been part of the Saiyans who reported that Earthlings were practically good for nothing… She looked over at him, deep in his kitchen work across the room, and silently wondered if he felt like shit about himself sometimes.

"So, that's basically what we're doing, then? You're calling it a vacation, but in reality, we're going to decide whether or not this species gets to go extinct, or become a bunch of slaves… That really puts a damper on things."

"Whether you go or not, it is what it is… So just take the good parts out of it. Maybe you can even help convince Vegeta that the planet is worth saving. And if not, it's still something you should look forward to… I mean, it's just the two of you, right? That means no Saiyans, no guards, no _prostitutes_ , no _king_ … You see what I'm getting at here?" she smiled. "Vegeta can just be with _you_ , and he knows that. It's probably why he wanted you to go so badly."

He was pouting when she refused… Was that why?

She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Plus," Chichi continued, "If the planet is like Earth, you can go see what it's like. That's a big deal. I would love to be able to do that. And if you guys are trying to blend in… I mean, you _are_ a guy and a girl, so… you'll probably end up having to at least _act_ like you're together." There was a moment of silence and Chichi sighed. "Aren't you at least a _little_ excited?"

"I made him uncomfortable today," she said, changing the subject. She was zoning out, anyway. "I was in his face and he kept looking at the wall, like I could just do whatever I wanted and he wouldn't have stopped me… Like, I want to believe he cares, and sometimes I can honestly feel that he does. But… when it comes down to something more serious, I really don't think he would choose me."

"Then don't make him choose," Goku said, finally looking up from whatever he'd been helping with, a few counters down. She wondered how much of their conversation he'd been listening to. He wore a tight frown, though. "If you're talking about choosing you over a something like a dinner plate, then you're just being irrational. But if you're talking about choosing you or his _people_ … that shouldn't be something you ask him to do, Bulma."

"I wasn't going to…" She trailed off, allowing some time to pass in silence. "I have like fifteen minutes, and I have to go finish packing, so—"

"I'm not trying to put you in a bad mood," Goku interrupted. "I'm just saying, when you go on this scouting mission with him, try to forget about this place for a little while. Forget about what's waiting for you when you get back and just… just try _being_ there. It'll make you both feel better. Trust me."

"Careful, Goku," Bulma said. "You're starting to sound a lot like Chichi."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"…and here's the currency that we've collected. I should be plenty to get you through at least three or four days. There's also this card, which can be used to purchase things when—"

"Just put it on the ship," Vegeta barked at the guard. A group of people started scurrying around at the heated tone in his voice, and the ship was prepped and cleared in a matter of minutes. Bulma had thrown her things on the ship already, and she stood behind the prince as he continued giving orders to the people around him.

"Isn't this the female you brought on your last off-world assignment?" a man said, and she turned to find a familiar pink-skinned brute. She'd seen him once before, and from what she remembered, he had a special talent for getting on the prince's nerves. "Hello, little girl," he spat. "Enjoying your special treatment?" He took a longer look at her before turning back to the prince. "This is the same girl that riled you up about a month ago. Looks like she's growing on you, doesn't it? Apparently, her behavior wasn't terrible enough for her to be punished… Or maybe you just avoided scarring that pretty face of hers, and the rest of her is in ribbons. Oh, what I would give to see her undressed…" Bulma gulped.

"Get lost, Dodoria," Vegeta said flatly, rolling his eyes.

Dodoria… Bulma remembered him, now. He was sent to this planet to assist in the military, as per King Cold's request. There were a number of soldiers he'd sent to Planet Vegeta, if Bulma had her information right. And this large, pink-skinned man was probably one of many.

"The ship is ready, sire," a man said, running up to the prince and saluting, standing straight and still, staring above the prince's head to avoid eye contact.

"Good," he replied, and he started saying something else, but Dodoria stepped in front of Bulma and looked her up and down. He stepped again so that he was between her and the prince and her heart began to race a bit when she couldn't see him anymore. She tried looking around him, but she couldn't see past his width and the thick armor he was wearing around his chest and stomach.

"Tell me what he's done to you, little girl. Maybe I can report it back to my king and have you _saved_. Maybe I'll even let you clean _my_ bedchambers." He stuck out a dark red tongue and swiped it across his thick pink lips. He reached forward and immediately grabbed the side of her face with a large, sweaty hand, wiping his palm against her and dragging her closer. He leaned towards her, and she yelped as he pulled her again, forcing her to step forward. His hand was like a brick—solid and stronger than she could ever be. He smiled, and she almost reeled from the stench of his breath. She raised her hand to strike him—

"Dodoria!" Vegeta shouted. And, not taking his eyes from her, the pink man's smile widened slyly. Bulma gulped again and lowered her hand as he released her, still smiling. She didn't like his expression. It made her more nervous than anything she'd experienced in a long while.

"Yes, my Lord?" Dodoria asked, turning and bowing to Vegeta, getting extra low to the floor. But Bulma knew it wasn't to be respectful. His voice was sarcastic. "Anything else I can do for you before your departure, my Liege?"

"Get lost," he repeated.

"Of course, my Lord." He bowed once more and then he was gone. Vegeta turned away, not even looking at her. He gave a few more commands before heading towards to entrance to the ship. Bulma slowly followed him inside, noticing that it was quite small, as far as Saiyan ships went. She watched the back of his head as he walked, and lowered her gaze to his shoulder blades, and down to his backside. He wore traditional Saiyan pants, giving Bulma a skin-tight look at the muscles in his legs, too. But before the butterflies could reach her stomach, the door lifted up and closed directly behind her, making her jump. She heard the engine quietly rumble and she knew they were already moving. And fast.

"We should arrive in a couple hours," he suddenly said. "You can relax over there," he added, pointing behind her. He hit a few buttons on the control panel before the glass front was covered by a metal sheet that extended down from the roof. Bulma watched it block the view of space before turning and finding a large couch behind her. There was only one, and another smaller chair, and a table between them. There were two seats at the control panel, and a small open space between both ends. The ship was smaller than the prince's chambers, which was surprising to her.

"It has autopilot?" she asked, watching him sit in the cushioned chair and propping his feet up on the glass table between them. She sat down on the couch and looked over at him. The ship was smooth—if she'd woken up here, she would never be able to tell that they were moving at such a speed. She wouldn't have been able to tell that they were moving at all, to be honest.

The prince ignored her and kicked off his boots, sliding them to the floor and revealing his dark blue socks. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. But Bulma wasn't tired, and she knew he'd only been awake for a few hours now. She leaned forward.

"So, what are we doing when we get there?" she asked, watching his face twist a little before he opened his eyes—he tilted his head forward and glared at her. She frowned. "I mean, once we get there… It'll be hard to blend in when we arrive in a space ship. Are the people even familiar with space travel? Do they know that there are other species out there?"

"Yes, they're not as naïve as Earth was," he sneered. "They know about other planets and they're familiar with space ships. Identification has been prepared for us. When we land, we'll be checked in as one of their kind. Then we'll find a place to stay so I can begin my work."

"You're just watching them, right?"

"I'll do whatever I want, woman," he replied, closing his eyes and leaning his head back again. Clearly, he was done talking. He shuffled around in the chair for a few moments before finding a comfortable spot and relaxing a bit… again.

"So…" Bulma said slowly, "What will I be doing, then?" The prince groaned, and she almost rolled her eyes at him. "I was thinking, since this planet is kind of like Earth was… I want to look around. So, maybe when you go out to observe, I could come with—"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're here to make sure that my living space is properly suited to me. I was told that the places that we could be staying have infestations and aren't accommodating to the needs of royalty. I brought you along to deal with that, not get in my way. This isn't some holiday for you. This is still your job, and you'll carry out your duties as you would back home."

"There's no way you're just going to keep me in one room the entire time…" She trailed off, fighting the urge to make a comment about how he just called Planet Vegeta her _home_. She'd never really thought of it as her home, and hearing him refer to it that way was odd.

"You'll do whatever I tell you to do."

"Or what?"

"Enough, woman," he sighed, adjusting his position again.

"I didn't agree to come along so I could clean a room for four days. I want to look around, and experience—"

"I said _no_."

"When you leave me alone, I'm just going to go look around anyway," she glowered.

"Don't expect me to come help you when you get yourself in trouble."

"I've never expected it before. Why would I start?"

He groaned and closed his eyes again, leaning his head back. Bulma watched him, wondering if he could tell that she was staring at his face. But after a few more moments, he tilted his head forward and glared right back at her.

"Four days," he said. "Do you know how much work I have to do in four days? And you want to treat this like some kind of field trip? It's work. It's _business_."

"No fun?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. And he shook his head. "So, you could _swear_ … that the entire time we're on this planet, you're not going to do _anything_ just for fun?"

"I do whatever I want, woman," he smirked. "You know that. I don't have to swear to anything."

"So, then if you _want_ to have fun, I could—"

"No."

"Why not?!" she shouted, and she watched him wince at her high pitch. "Why did you make such a big deal about me coming if you're just going to lock me in a room for four days?!"

The prince stood. And Bulma's face immediately turned red from the expression he was giving her. He slowly took a step in her direction, and she sat up as straight as she could on the couch, crossing her legs and folding her hands in her lap. She watched him carefully until he stood directly in front of her, looking down at her. Then her eyes darted to the side, and she couldn't stop them as she slouched a little, too. But before she could keep her eyes on the ground for long, she watched his legs bend and he got down on his knees in front of her. Her gaze snapped to attention when his face was below hers and he looked up at her, only a few inches away. She held her breath.

"Do as I say," he whispered. "When the only protection you have is me, you need to obey. Do you understand? If you start doing whatever you want, or leave when I'm not looking, what if you get lost? Or injured? What if I can't find you?"

"When you go out… I just want to go with you," she said softly, looking away again. But then, his head came down and rested in her lap, and she had to stop herself from jumping in surprise. She looked down and watched him close his eyes, and his face calmed—and she remembered Goku's words about being in the moment and being where no one was looking… there were no Saiyans here. It was just the two of them, and she felt like Vegeta understood that even before she did…

She gently rose her hand and placed her palm on the side of his head, running her fingers through his soft, spikey hair. She listened to one of his exhales turn into a sigh and couldn't help but smile. She kept gently playing with his hair until his breathing slowed.

"Maybe," she whispered, "If you finish all the important stuff early… then maybe we could…?" But she never got a reply, because the prince was fast asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen:**

Bulma couldn't stop staring.

The atmosphere was just so different than anything she'd ever experienced before in her life. Even from what little she remembered about Earth, this was nothing like the grassy green fields or the bright blue water. And compared to Planet Vegeta… all she'd ever known was the castle; and before that, she lived in a small house in the mountains with her previous Saiyan lord. She couldn't even remember the last time she saw the sky, since she never left the castle.

But here… everything felt so strange. It wasn't in a bad way, though. It was just… different. The sky was above them, and it was close to the end of the day, considering all the different colors mixing above her. But she couldn't look up at the gorgeous sight for long, otherwise she'd bump into someone.

When they landed, Vegeta had fixed her collar to match this planet's gravity, and then he told her to wait while he got everything sorted out. And so far, it seemed like his plan was going perfectly. A few men had checked their fake ID cards, and they just let them park their space shuttle in a lot, saying they'll keep it there until they wanted to use it again. And then Vegeta had asked another man for directions on how to reach a place where the two of them could stay overnight. They were pointed in this direction, but she wasn't sure where they were going.

Throngs of people walked around them, bumping into her shoulder, walking fast past her and going too slow in front of her. And the buildings around them were huge. When she did manage to look up, it looked like the tops of some of the towers touched the colors in the sky. She wondered if they were taller than the Saiyan castle… This place was huge, and she'd never been surrounded by this many people before. It made her very anxious, to say the least.

She looked forward again and realized that Vegeta was no longer in front of her. She paused and turned around, but a larger woman bumped into her shoulder, spinning her around, and then kept walking without a word. Bulma turned forward again, but another man hit her other side and she spun again, almost losing her balance.

"Vegeta!" she called, her eyes widening, as if the people coming at her was a wild stampede.

But someone grabbed her arm and pulled her past a few people. She knew it was him just from his grip, but he was a little rough and she winced. He yanked her between two people who wouldn't move out of the way, and she crashed past them, hearing them shout some complaints, and slammed right into the Saiyan prince's chest with a gasp.

"Try no to get lost," he said flatly, and she looked up at him, a little disoriented. This place was crazy! When she thought about going out to explore without him, she never imagined it would be like this. If he left her alone now, she wouldn't dare go willingly into this chaos. She would want to hide away in a locked room after seeing this mess.

Vegeta's hand trailed down her arm and he grabbed her wrist as he continued walking past people, shoving them out of the way. Bulma struggled to keep up, but every time she was about to fall forward, he would slow his pace… But when she regained her footing, he would just speed up again. She tried calling out to him, but it was loud all around her, too. And every time she found an opportunity to take a breath, someone would bump into her and knock it out of her again.

Abruptly, Vegeta yanked her by her wrist and she crashed between a few more people, ramming into him again. She was about to yell at him, but when she looked up, the people weren't cluttering around her anymore. She took a deep breath and exhaled. The prince let go of her wrist and she felt where he touched her for a while. A part of her thought about what it would be like to hold his hand…

"Are you coming, or do you want to get lost?" he barked, and she realized that he was holding a door open, motioning for her to go through it. She almost blushed—was he really holding a door for her? She walked under the frame and listened to his footsteps directly behind her, and when she froze again, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a light shove. "Move, woman," he sighed, stepping around her.

They were in a small hallway, and at the end of it was a desk, where a woman sat. Vegeta walked past her and down the hall, and after looking around at the white walls and the red carpeting, she hurried to catch up with him. He was already talking to the woman when she caught up.

"So, four nights, four days," she said, probably repeating what he'd asked for. She looked up and saw Bulma—and her expression changed. "So, you'll be needing two beds, then," she added.

"Just one," Vegeta said, and Bulma blushed and looked away. This seemed… strange. The woman looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment before scowling. Her eyes rested on Bulma, and she looked… pissed. "Is that a problem?" Vegeta asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Of course not," she said, bowing slightly. "Will you be paying with cash or card?"

"Card."

"I'll take it, please."

Vegeta handed the woman a card from his pocket, and she did something with it behind the counter before giving it back to him and handing him a key. Bulma wondered how the currency worked on this planet. He paid with something, and the woman just gave it back to him? She didn't understand much of what was going on, especially when the woman started glaring at her again, as Vegeta turned and started walking to the left. Bulma hurried after him, seeing a flight of stairs ahead. He walked up a flight and turned, going up the next flight. Just as she turned and walked with him, and there were walls surrounding them on a platform between the flights, he whirled on her. She startled and backed up against the wall, as his hands pressed against the wall to each side of her head.

Her heart raced, and just from the way he moved, she knew to close her eyes before his mouth met hers. Without warning, his tongue moved between her lips and she gasped, trying to keep her voice low.

"Vegeta, there are people—" He kissed her harder and moved forward in one swift motion, pressing his full front against her. She lost her breath, but he didn't break their kiss. She felt his body move like a wave against her, his lower body pushing her hips, and his upper body pressing on her chest. Their stomachs met, flat against each other, somewhere in between. And after a few more moments, she heard his breathing get caught. "What… are you—" Her eyes widened as soon as she felt him, pressing against her, and his lower body continued moving against her. "Vegeta—" she whispered.

"Shh." He moved his head down to her jawline and immediately she felt his hot saliva dripping from her jaw, down her throat. She opened her mouth again to protest, but his lips came up to her ear and his teeth moved along her lobe and auricle, and she shivered at how sensitive it was. She heard his breathing right next to her and her body became just a bit weak. She felt like her legs would start shaking. He exhaled, and as the warm breath covered the side of her face, she lost it, and she dropped.

He chuckled when he caught her, kissing her again. He broke it quickly, though, and looked down at her. "This species has quite an acute sense of smell," he smirked. "Whenever you leave this building, my scent needs to be on you. Understand?" Lips parted, she just nodded her head. So, he was only doing this because… he wanted her to smell like him? "The woman downstairs assumed you weren't my mate because you don't carry my scent, and you walked far behind me… On this planet, sexual partners are commonplace, like carrying around a set of keys… Did I forget to mention that to you?" He smirked again, but she didn't have the strength to be anything other than unsettled. "Stand up, woman." He lifted her and waited for her to straighten out her legs and stand on her own. "Our things should be in the room already."

And then he just let go of her and continued up the stairs. Bulma whirled around in her head for a few moments before daring to take a step. What did he even mean, his scent had to be on her? So, he did all that just to… what? Rub himself all over her? And what good did that even do? And what did he mean about this planet…? What was going on? What did he forget to mention? _What…_? And god, what was he doing to her? One kiss and her head wouldn't stop spinning… The feel of his body pressed against hers… it still felt like he was on her. She could barely walk up the stairs.

But he was too far ahead no to notice her struggling, and when she reached the floor he stopped on, she saw him down the hall, opening a door on the right. He left it open, and after half a minute, she turned and followed him inside.

"Close the door," he said, and her jaw almost dropped. The room wasn't nearly as big as the prince's chambers back home. Instead, it was just a small room with a large bed in the middle. There was a garderobe to her right, but it looked strange compared to the ones back on Planet Vegeta. And there was a large window, with thick curtains blocking all light from getting inside. She slowly turned and closed the door, not taking her eyes off the bed.

"Is… Is this it?" she asked. This wasn't a room fit for a prince at all. This was… a bedroom with a toilet and shower attached at the side. And the bed… she wasn't assuming that it would be the size of the prince's, but… it didn't look like it was made for two people… She was going to end up pressed against him, unless she decided to sleep on the floor. At least, back home, she had the option to move away from him and still be under the covers. But here…

"I told you it would be inferior," he said, taking off his shirt. "What are you so surprised about?"

"I'm… not… but… why are you… taking off… your…" She closed her mouth. She could barely form words. She had to be in this tight space with the prince for four days… and four _nights_? How was that even possible? And how was she supposed to do her job? She didn't know where the sheets were, or where they kept their cleaning products, or… _anything_.

"You're going to need to change," he said. "I had our scouts prepare a few things while they were here, so they picked up some casual clothing and other things we might need. We stand out too much in these clothes."

He sat down on the edge of the small bed and removed his pants. He wasn't wearing anything underneath and Bulma gasped, turning her head away in embarrassment. Why was he getting completely naked in front of her now? Wasn't the kiss on the stairway enough? She didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking, though. And out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stand and grab one of the bags on the floor. She recognized one of them as the one she brought from Planet Vegeta. And as he turned and knelt down to pick up a pile of clothes, she quickly glanced at his naked back.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he whispered, and she immediately looked away. She heard him step closer to her and throw something on the bed. "Take your clothes off."

"W-What?" she stammered, squeezing her eyes shut so she couldn't see anything.

"People can tell we're not from around here. We need to blend in," he spoke, but he sounded so close to her. Why couldn't he put clothes on first? "And I'm going out tonight to work. If you want to come, you have to change."

"I'll change over there," she said quickly, pointing to the strange shower area. At least there was a door she could close and lock to get away from him.

The prince sighed. "Stop getting embarrassed, woman. It's very inconvenient."

" _Inconve_ —"

"You have nothing to be embarrassed of."

Bulma flushed, and she couldn't stop herself from opening her eyes and staring into his onyx orbs. He stared back, his eyes slightly narrowed, but he'd just said something… kind of sweet. And she blinked a few times, just staring at him.

"Take off your shirt," he commanded, and she lost whatever feeling she had. "And your pants. You'll put these on." He pointed to the pile of clothes he'd thrown on the bed before and she glanced down at them to her left. She exhaled and looked to the wall, afraid that she would catch another glimpse of him in her peripheral vision.

She gulped and reached for the hem of her shirt, but her hands paused there. Why was he making her do this? She closed her eyes and slowly, uncomfortably, pulled it off over her head. She was wearing a plain bra, and she couldn't help but open her eyes just enough to look down at herself. And she did look very plain. Her skin wasn't anything to gawk at. Her stomach wasn't perfectly flat or anything. She'd seen the model-like women that Vegeta spent his nights with. And she knew she didn't compare to anything like that. If anything, her only good point was that her breasts were a decent size. But still, not as big as Vegeta seemed to like…

"Why… aren't you getting dressed?" she asked, continuing to look away.

"The scent I put on you before," he replied bluntly, "I put in on your clothes. It'll be more efficient if it's on your skin. You're just taking it off now, but if you want to go with me tonight, I need to mark you again."

Bulma's eyes slowly lifted to his face and she gulped again. She was standing there… shirtless. But he wasn't staring at her chest. He was looking back at her. He was… waiting.

"So, before… you just did that to… _mark_ me?" she asked.

"You're trying to imply that I didn't want to?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. He paused before answering. "I enjoyed it." Then he smirked. "I also knew you'd have to change as soon as we got in here."

She knew her face must have turned beat-red from the way she felt heat coming off her forehead and ears. And in the next second, Vegeta knocked the pile of clothes off the bed, grabbed her, and threw her down on top of the light green sheets. She yelped as he crawled on top of her.

"Can't I just—wear your shirt or something?"

"I don't mark you with my natural scent, woman," he purred, his face above hers. "There's a specific scent that males give off when they're turned on."

"So…" she trailed off, raising her arms to cover her flushed face.

" _So_ …" he mocked, smirking at her. He grabbed her arms and slowly pushed them out of the way. Her eyes were lidded and she couldn't think. "Turn me on."

"Vegeta," she breathed, and she let her eyes wander down between the small space between them, and she looked at him. "But… you're already…"

He chuckled. "You're no fun." And then he leaned down and met her mouth with his again, this time a lot gentler than in the stairway. He rested his elbows on either side of her head and his one hand entangled in her hair, sprayed out on the pillow under her. He softly scraped his nails along her scalp and she shivered, taking in a quick breath through his lips. And when hers parted, his tongue lightly brushed its way inside her. She kissed him back and found herself doing things she'd never thought of doing before.

She lightly bit down on his tongue and sucked it into her mouth, letting out an involuntary moan as she sucked. And she let her hands come up and run over his chest. He made a noise when her nail hit something hard and she opened her eyes for a moment, breaking their kiss. She looked down at his chest—he was still holding himself up above her—and his eyes followed hers. She brushed her fingers over his side and stalled for what she wanted. That noise… it made the butterflies go crazy. She slowly curled her fingers and scratched up his sides and around to his collarbone. She trailed her nails down the sides of his arms and back up, until she focused on what she'd hit before. She looked at his face—he was still watching her hands—and gently ran a nail over the small, red peak.

He made that sound again, making her lower stomach flutter. It was a groan, almost quiet, and cut short when he ground his teeth together. And as she ran her fingers over the peak again, his body shivered, and he looked away. She stared at his face and watched as her fingers kept running over his sensitive spots, and each time he shivered and his expression changed. His lips started to part and his breathing was staggered. He would squeeze his eyes shut and then they would lid. But he wouldn't look back at her. He kept his eyes off to the right, and she could've swore his face was getting redder.

She didn't know when she started panting, but her breath got caught in her throat. She'd never seen him make these faces before, not even with her. And last time she'd done anything like this with him, it had been too dark to see anything other than shadows. She found herself wishing she could have seen his expressions then, too.

She curled her fingers again and pinched his nipple between two of her nails and, feeling bold, she pinched hard. Vegeta immediately made a noise that sounded like he was choking and his head dropped over her shoulder, his forehead resting on the pillow beside her, his face in her hair. She listened to his harsh breathing as she bit her lip, going back to gently padding him with the pad of her pointer finger.

Something warm suddenly dripped onto her lower stomach and she pursed her lips, still catching her breath from the sounds he made right next to her ear. She knew what that was…

"Vegeta…" she breathed. "Why… Why are you letting me do this?" She paused, letting her fingers trail up and down his arms and his sides again. His breathing slowly went back to normal, but he didn't lift his head. "I don't mean to say… that I watch you… but, when you're with other women… you don't let them kiss you. You don't let them… touch you however they want… So, why am I—"

Immediately, he was off of her, and picking the clothes up from the floor. She watched him toss a shirt and a pair of pants at her and she quickly sat up and grabbed them.

"That should be good enough," he said, his voice raspy. "I don't think anyone will bother you tonight." Again, he wasn't looking at her. She watched him pull up a pair of pants and adjust himself. He was still hard, and probably worse off than when they started. He gritted his teeth again and pulled the fabric around one more time before throwing on the shirt—which was a style she'd never seen before. It exposed his shoulders, and she couldn't help but feel that it didn't suit him. Neither did the excessive bulge at the front of his pants.

"Are you… going to be okay… going out like that?"

"I'm sure someone will take care of it for me."

"Oh…" She smiled down at herself, sadly. This was one of their walls. This was one of the problems she would have to face, and deal with, however she could. Even though they had whatever this relationship was, he was still going to have other women around him. And even here, where it was supposed to be just the two of them… She jumped when one cold tear dripped down her face and onto her arm in front of her.

"I have to work," he said, and his face was right in front of her in the next second. His palms spread out to either side of her and he leaned forward. He kissed her, but both their eyes stayed fixed on the others. "I don't have time to find someone to care of it." He kissed her again, and she let herself feel like it was an apology, that time. "We need to go." But he didn't lean away from her.

"Why… would you have to find someone?" she asked, her lips trembling at her own words.

"Just let me know when you're ready and I won't have to," he whispered, his warm breath in her face. She gulped as he placed his open palm on her lower stomach, and smeared his liquid up her stomach with a smirk.

She wanted to tell him that what he said about finding another woman was only relevant when they got back to the castle, but Goku's words stopped her. She was supposed to be living in the moment, and not bringing up anything about Planet Vegeta while they were here. And it seemed better this way, so she just nodded. Maybe she could even convince herself for four days that she could be the only one he wanted.

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The crowds were just as bad at night, and Vegeta ended up taking her to some kind of terrible place. He'd said that he wanted to get the bad part of the job over with on the first night, but she didn't know what that meant. All she knew was that she didn't feel safe here, so she made sure to stay extra close to the prince, occasionally holding onto the back of his shirt like some lost child. He never pushed her away, though.

The tall buildings were always on either side of her, making it impossible to see anything, and impossible to run anywhere, if she needed to. No one knew that Vegeta was a Saiyan, and she was extremely grateful for his warrior's strength and speed, for once. She knew he could fight off an army of these people. Actually, she felt like he could probably kill everyone living on this planet in the four days that they were here. And although that was awful, she felt a little safer having him around.

But he wasn't holding onto her wrist, like before, and it sometimes seemed like he was ignoring her as he talked to people on the streets and intimidated some others—she didn't want to get left behind. Thankfully, he hadn't gotten into any fights… so far. She took it as a good sign. She knew to watch herself, though. Being weak, even compared to this planet's people, she could easily get hurt while Vegeta's back was turned. So, she hid in his shadow and didn't look around too much. And she only grabbed his shirt when she needed to. She felt like she could easily get in his way here.

On the other hand, this was hardly what she thought she'd be doing when she told Vegeta that she wanted to go out with him while he worked. These weren't the experiences she wanted to have. But, hopes high, she figured this was the worst of it, and later would be more exciting and less… threatening. But she was starting to understand what he'd meant before about sexual partners being like holding keys here. She didn't notice it before, probably because she wasn't really looking at what the crowds had been doing, but everyone was…

Simply put, no one was alone on the streets. Every man had a woman hanging on him… Well, to be honest, every woman had men hanging on _them_. It seemed like the females here were dominant to the males. She even saw a couple getting kicked around down an alley. But in other cases, women chased men, too. It was a strange environment, to say the least.

"Watch it," Vegeta growled, grabbing her and pulling her closer to him. She jumped and looked forward, realizing that she'd been about to walk into a couple against a wall, tongues down each other's throats. The man sounded like he couldn't breathe, and the woman was laughing. Bulma stared at them until she had to look forward, or else she'd fall. The sight of them made her face heat up and she glanced at the back of Vegeta's head, as she fell back in step behind him.

His words echoed in her head— _when you're ready… I won't have to_ —and she couldn't stop thinking about them. It wasn't that the prince wasn't attractive—that was obviously the least of his worries. But when she was _ready_ … that was a whole other topic. But for some reason, she felt bad about it all. She started living in his room, sleeping in his bed, and then… she got to touch him. She was allowed to get close to him like no one else could, and of course it made her feel special, but…

Giving herself to Vegeta, in that way, was different. And a part of her wondered if she'd ever be ready for that. Kissing him… touching him… being like that was special to her, because she knew that he cared for her from the simple fact that he allowed those things to happen. And she enjoyed making him happy, and learning and experimenting with him… with his body. She never would've dreamed that she could make a man feel good—much less the prince—because she never knew how. And having him there and happy to have her was… she _loved_ it. She loved _him_.

But him giving himself to _her_ like that was one thing. Her giving herself to _him_ was different. She'd never been with a man, while Vegeta spent his life being with probably thousands of women. In a sense, he wasn't giving her anything precious if he slept with her. He was just looking for another good time, whether he cared for her or not. And Bulma always thought that one day she would give herself to a man that she would be with forever…

And that was the other problem—and the reason why she wasn't sure she could ever be with him the way he really wanted. She knew that her and Vegeta would never be forever. If she gave her body to him, it would be for one night. Maybe she would get lucky and it would even turn out to be for a few years, but he would never truly be hers. He would always be giving himself to other people. And she couldn't be like that. She couldn't… sleep with Vegeta, and then have Yamcha's children, and then sleep with another man, and then find someone she truly loved and be with him instead. That wasn't her. Because then what was all of this for? She couldn't just give herself to men the way Vegeta gave himself to women…

She looked up at the back of his head again, wondering what he was thinking—wondering what he would say if she tried to tell him about how she felt. She wanted to believe that he would give her some good news, or say something that would make her heart skip a beat… but there was nothing he could say. And he already told her—it changes nothing. She knew that now. She just found herself wishing it wasn't true. And wishing that one day, she _could_ be ready—and maybe he wouldn't have to.

His back was still to her, and finally he neared a man who looked like he'd been waiting for a while.

The man said some kind of greeting and Bulma finally got to pause behind the prince. She stood close to his back and took the opportunity to look around more. It just seemed like everyone was making out around here. It must not have been that obvious earlier in the day, but she did remember how she had to crash into people and come between people in order to get to the place they were staying for four days. She just hadn't realized that she'd been stepping between couples… or mates… or whatever they called themselves here.

No one was looking at her. She let her eyes wander from make-out session to what looked like a full-on orgy down another street. And then her eyes dropped to a thin male, who was walking alone. She waited a few moments, waiting for someone to run up to him or something, but he stayed alone as he walked. And then he started looking around, as well. And before Bulma could look away, their eyes met and the man paused. He smiled and slowly lifted a hand to wave at her. Bulma just stared and slowly waved back. But then he turned and started walking towards her. Bulma jumped.

"…was a tragic accident, but he's the stand-in like him for the time being. The royal family is pissed, of course, but what can they do?"

Bulma immediately grabbed the back of Vegeta's shirt with her fist and pressed herself against his back. She didn't even feel him flinch, much less react. And although the man slowed when he saw her grab the prince, Vegeta's lack of reaction wasn't helping, so the man kept coming.

"How long has he been in charge?" Vegeta asked the man.

"Over two weeks now… It's not permanent. He made that very clear. Everyone says he's just trying to help but they're brainwashed somehow. I know he's—"

"—Ve—"

The prince cut both of them off just as the man was in arm's length, reaching out to grab Bulma, and Vegeta turned to his side, lifting his arm around her and pulling her into him. The thin man immediately froze and stood there, watching her. She couldn't tear her eyes from him. Although he didn't seem to have a bad aura, the thought of him reaching her just now terrified her. And she continued to stare, wide-eyed, at the man.

"How did he even get the position? If the royal family isn't happy with the decision, why didn't they just choose someone else?" Vegeta suddenly tilted his head and put his lips to Bulma's hair, nuzzling her for a moment. The man he was speaking to didn't seem to care, but the thin man staring at them scowled and turned, finally walking away.

"When the king died, he left no heirs, and his wife passed years ago. That means it was up to the _people_ to decide who holds the throne, until a more concrete decision has been made. What I want to know is how he was chosen, when no one even knew who he was until the king's death. He must have been pretty well-known, but no one around here even knew his name until he just appeared one day."

"What's his name?" Vegeta asked.

The man took a look in each direction a few times before lowering his eyes, like Vegeta was asking him for a shady favor. The man looked at Bulma for the first time and stared at her for a moment before looking back to Vegeta.

"She's with you?" the man asked, and his voice was significantly lower than before. Vegeta nodded and she watched the man's Adam's apple move as he swallowed. "Nobody says his name around here, you know. Some say it's bad luck. Others say he can hear you when you say it, and he starts to hunt you down…"

"What's his _name_?" Vegeta asked again, his voice a little more threatening. The man gulped and took another couple of looks around before lowering his head and looking up at them.

"Broly," the man whispered. "His name's Broly."


End file.
